Lost in Darkness
by Mystic Lady Fae
Summary: Ria is now Khan's prisoner, and things go from bad to worse when he decides that her "inferiority" as a normal human might make trouble with his crew. With little to no chance of escape, Khan's solution to this difficulty will be the start of a whole new nightmare for Ria.
1. Prisoner

Disclaimer: I own nothing Star Trek-related…though I might consider the idea of beaming Kirk, Spock, Khan, and the actors who play them to my house, once I manage to construct my own transporter. Until then, nothing is mine except original characters.

AN: So sorry this is up so late; I honestly didn't realize that time was going by so fast until I actually thought about it! Anyway, here is the sequel to my Star Trek story; I hope everyone enjoys themselves, and will leave a review? Thanks so much!

**Chapter 1: Prisoner:**

The walls were closing in. I swear I could see them inching inwards each time I woke up, even though I knew it was all in my head.

That feeling of oppression could hardly be surprising, since my days as Khan's prisoner sucked royally. I wasn't allowed out of my rooms, and on the few occasions Khan called me into his presence, it was under guard. Granted, I only had _one_ guard, but I wasn't stupid –with a crew of super-soldiers standing between me and any attempt escape, making a break for it was _not_ a good idea, no matter how few guards I had.

Of course, even if I tried to run, I had no idea what the layout of the ship was, and no clue as to how many people were aboard. Even if I did manage to slip away, I hadn't the training to trick the interior sensors to not detect me. I considered just going all out and making a break for the escape pods, but even if I succeeded in dodging the crew and somehow evaded recapture, I had no idea where the pods were on this type of vessel.

Obviously, the main thing preventing my getaway was Khan's crew: a group of men and women who were probably just as ruthless as their leader. I knew I didn't have the intelligence to outwit them, or the strength to overpower them so that I could escape, and I knew that failure meant being tortured in some way. I didn't have the willpower to withstand that kind of thing, so being the ideal prisoner was, at present, my only option.

In other words, I had no way out. I knew it, but most of all, Khan knew it, and it pleased him. But what gave him even more pleasure was the fact that I knew that I couldn't escape –it showed whenever I was brought to him for a "chat," an event that occurred more often than I liked.

During those few times I was let out of my cage, I sat and listened as I was informed of what I was and was not allowed to do, and the improvements to the ship, which were all intended to let me know that any escape window that existed was growing smaller each day.

That, of course, meant that any lingering hopes I had were also fading.

* * *

A week after his triumph over the _Enterprise_ and its Captain, Khan could barely hide the pleasure and satisfaction off his face.

However, keeping a serious appearance before his crew was important –if he appeared too content, they would think he was going soft, and that kind of thinking tended to lead to rebellion. A true leader never let himself get too comfortable, because once he did, he would soon find a blade driven between his shoulder blades. Khan had seen it happen before, to other leaders during his time in power, and he had no desire to see it again.

Still, he was quite pleased that his plan had worked, and that Ria was safely aboard the _Star Explorer_. Feeling some of his people looking at him, Khan restrained himself from shaking his head and tried to focus on the updates they were providing. To him, this was a horribly named ship, but it _was_ a science vessel, so it was probably expected to have such a pathetic name. Many of his crew wished to rename the vessel, and it was an option that he was very much considering.

Really, it had been all too easy to obtain this vessel; the take-over had gone well, and as planned.

With the world's computer systems filled with falsified records for each of them, it had been simple to slip his people aboard the _Star Explorer,_ all disguised as workers assigned to dismantle the vessel. A previous night's trip to the shipyards had given them ample opportunity to smuggle their supplies and technology onto the shuttles and larger transport vehicles, hidden beneath the tools that would be used to dismantle the _Explorer_.

It took a bit of play-acting on their parts, but those who were 'assigned' to dismantle the ship's inner systems had bided their time before slipping a sleep agent into the ventilation system, knocking out everyone except Khan and his crewmates. It was only a matter of dragging the outsiders to the shuttles that had brought them over, leaving them there until the right time to send them back to Earth.

Once the ship was in their hands, Khan's people had quickly gone to work: one group hooked up their new power supplies; one began putting the replicators into easy-access areas, and another transported their arsenal of weaponry up from their hiding places on earth, to be loaded into the cargo bay, while the torpedoes were put into their tubes. After the power was up and running, Khan ordered the shuttles bearing the sleeping work crews to be sent off on a slow course back towards Earth, as the _Explorer_ shot off into the depths of space.

Unfortunately, obtaining the ship had been the simple part.

The planet they had hoped to colonize was now in a sector of space where the sun was going nova, making the planets there uninhabitable. His science teams were searching for a new world to settle on, but it was something that would take time.

Currently, with the replicators and the efficiency of Khan's crew, the vessel was slowly coming together, but it was clear they would have to find a planet sooner, rather than later.

"…and we've just been in contact with a lightly populated world that has need of fighters, to help them win against some vicious local creatures that have been terrifying their villages," Isaacs said, catching Khan's attention. "They offer to trade some of their minerals, food, and other supplies in exchange."

Khan looked closely at his technical officer. "And how did this come about?" he drawled in a half interested tone. To the untrained eye, it appeared though this did not concern him; the rest of his crew knew better. His officers knew that if the answer he received wasn't a satisfactory one, someone would lose a finger, or possibly an eye. It had happened before.

"While these villages appear to be barely as technologically advanced as us, the truth is that they are merely a small sect of people who chose to leave the large cities in favor of a rural life," Isaacs explained. "They still possess the basic technological items, but they seem to be unprepared for the difficulties their new ways of life present to them."

Isaacs's niece stepped forward, waiting for Khan's nod before taking up for her uncle and superior. "We picked up their distress call to one of their cities, begging for aid, but the city seems to have been ignoring them. We took a tactical risk and replied to them, saying we were space farers and that we would be happy to help them –for a price."

Khan did not like his people working behind his back, and his displeasure must have showed –the others stood straighter and even Isaacs began to look a bit uneasy. It took a great deal to shake the older man, and that was usually when Khan was angry with him.

"It was a sound risk," Isaacs argued. "We need materials for the power cells, crystals for the warp core, and things we can make into spare parts. We might even get items we can trade to other races later on."

For a moment, Khan was tempted to take a fist to someone's head for suggesting that they try acting like traders or merchants, but he knew they were right. They were fighters, and it wouldn't be the first time they had been forced to trade their fighting skills for things they needed. It was, in fact, something they had done many years before Khan had built up enough power to conquer several nations.

However, it was also something he and his people did not like remembering. When the first nation they'd fought for had surrendered, Khan and what was left of his people had decided to move off on their own, rather than be taken prisoner. They had fought for other countries, sometimes gaining much, sometimes not so much, but always gathering power, allies, and followers. That was how they had risen to the top, and if need be, Khan would do it all again.

It was all he could do, given the circumstances.

"Very well," he conceded. He held up a finger, and watched in satisfaction as everyone's eyes focused on that single digit. "_But_, if you ever try something like that again without my authorization, I'll take one of your eyes."

Everyone nodded, knowing that Khan might tolerate a mistake once, but never twice. "Now, get out, except for Miranda." They rushed to obey, leaving the young woman behind. "Miranda, bring me Richards. I have a task for him."

She swallowed. "Yes, sir," she replied with a salute, before turning to leave at a brisk pace.

He smiled. Miranda was terrified of Richards, likely because she had several not very fond memories of being treated by him. Many tended to associate immense pain and suffering with being in the doctor's presence.

Unlike most doctors, Richards was severely lacking any kind of bedside manners. It was rare for Khan's people to require a doctor's efforts –their scientifically engineered bodies were quick to heal under normal circumstances, and anything more severe tended to mend in a fraction of the time it took a normal human body.

But there were the occasional instances where a doctor's expertise was required, and for Khan's people, that was Richards.

Like the rest of the crew, Richards tended to be a hard, disciplined man who dared not show weakness –to him, this included things such as caring and a soft touch. Thus, when his services were required, Richards worked as fast and efficiently as possible to get his patient's injuries dealt with. Sometimes, usually in a time of war, wounds and serious injuries had to be treated without the benefit of the tools and medicines that were required. If it hadn't been for their hyperactive immune systems, healing abilities, and high tolerance for pain, there was a good chance that most of the injured would have died very quickly in Richards' care.

However, if any of this century's physicians had heard of Richards' past practices, they'd have done everything possible to have him arrested for malpractice. Richards was more of a war-time doctor, and was used to working as fast as possible to get his patients treated and out of the way so that he could move onto the next one. Being 'kind' and 'caring' wasn't in his nature.

Not to say that he was bad at his work -Richards was _very_ good at what he did, if only because he knew the limits of the people he was working on, and knew his way around the interior of the human body. And he always gave his best efforts, so that his patients came out of their situations alive and were able to heal on their own. That's all that mattered, in the end.

But like the others, Miranda did not like going into Richards' presence unless she absolutely had to. Well, today she would have to.

"Yes, sir," she obligingly replied before turning to leave the room.

Smiling, Khan sat back in his chair to wait.

* * *

Richards shifted ever-so-slightly where he stood, his face impassive but for the slight crease between his brows. He didn't have the courage (or insanity) to tell the truth: that the crew didn't approve of having Ria aboard in the first place, and that it was only fear of being found out by Khan that kept them from even voicing their doubts.

As it was, Khan sat and waited for the doctor's response.

"Sir, I'm not sure if I can approve of such an effort," the man respectfully told his leader and superior officer. "It's extremely risky."

He paused for a moment. "And I do not think the crew would approve of such a venture."

Khan sat back and looked at his physician. "I know that they do not like having her here, Thomas," he said. "She is inferior to them in many ways, but in this century, it is us who have the disadvantage, and thus are apparently inferior to the modern world. This is a century of peace, not war –we are outdated, and appear barbaric and hostile to the rest of humanity. That is why Starfleet and the Federation fear us, and will never accept us as we are."

Rising from his chair, he walked over to the window, eyes watching the stars as they traveled through space. "What I'm proposing is integrating Ria into our ranks: making her one of us in many ways that matter, but also using her to our advantage. She can teach us important skills that will allow us to be part of this new existence. Even if we can't fully integrate with them, we can at least learn how to communicate and trade with them."

"Sir, that isn't what we do," Richards protested.

"But adapting is!" Khan yelled, slamming his fist against a wall, denting it. "War is a thing of the past, and if we cannot adapt, we will perish from lack of supplies, or be slaughtered by those who see us as violent and uncontrollable. We need allies, but in order to form friendships, we must be open and communicate in ways that they will not view as hostile."

"And you think this girl can help us achieve that?" Richards asked. His voice was emotionless, but Khan knew he was considering this carefully. Richards was no fool.

"She has a distinct advantage that we do not: she has been working hard for years to fit into their society," Khan said, beginning to pace. "She has been part of this century longer than I have, and attended their precious Academy, which strives to ingrain within their students the morals and ethics that the people now believe in and follow. Ria might not be able to teach them to us, but we might be able to use them to our advantage."

By now, Richards was nodding. "I do see your point, sir. Having a person already educated in their ways is easier than sending one of our own to their Academy.

"However, it might be some time before she's able to give us the information we need. We haven't yet found a planet to colonize, and it will be a long and dangerous process. She might not be up to the task, or even survive long enough to do what you have planned."

Putting on his most polite smile, Khan turned towards the doctor, who quickly silenced himself. "That is why I want you to perform the procedure I've suggested. We need her if we are to survive, but first, she must be able to endure the difficulties we all might encounter."

Sighing through his nose, Richards' shoulders dropped; a clear indication that he was going to do as asked. "I'll get right on it, sir. I'm going to need a few samples of her DNA, though, and time to develop the serum."

"Do whatever you have to, but do it quickly," Khan ordered. "Keep me informed of all progress, and anything you need, whether its equipment, materials, or aid. I want this done within days."

With a salute, the doctor turned and left the cabin.

* * *

Alone with his thoughts, Khan decided to visit his prisoner in her quarters.

He hadn't expected it of her, but Ria was proving to be a source of entertainment for him. She was no wilting flower when it came to imprisonment –in fact, it seemed to irritate her more than anything. He had been informed by the guards standing watch over her that she was often bored, and that they could hear her loudly complaining about her boredom as she paced her quarters.

However, Khan dared not provide her with anything that could be somehow used in a fight or escape. A data pad could be shattered and turned into sharp blades, and he was not going to let her out of her rooms for anything short of a conference with him in his quarters.

He grinned as an idea suddenly came to him.

* * *

To my complete surprise, the door to my cabin opened, and in stepped Khan himself. I'd been pacing my cabin, trying to think of something to do, and when he stepped inside, I was immensely thankful that I hadn't had my notebook out.

Even though the replicator in my quarters had been programmed to create things that weren't deemed "dangerous," I'd managed to find a loophole, and had gotten it to produce a notebook to write in, as well as a pen. I didn't dare take the risk of using it often, though, since I couldn't run the risk of someone finding me with it and taking it away.

Not that I actually wrote anything significant, since I didn't want Khan or his people to read it, if they found it. I had taken to scribbling drawings on the pages, or just writing out how bored and angry I was feeling about my situation, but nothing more than that. It was kind of therapeutic, actually, and helpful in blowing off some steam.

I'd relaxed a little when I realized my notebook was hidden away, but the look in Khan's eyes put my hackles up again. He was up to something.

"Ria, I was strolling through the ship and realized that you have not been informed about a few changes that have occurred," he said. "Please sit down."

It was an offer I didn't dare refuse, even as he took a seat beside me. I carefully perched a decent distance from him, and forced myself to listen as he told me the latest happenings. Apparently the crew was going to be acting as hired mercenaries for a nearby planet, in exchange for materials and supplies for the ship. I personally didn't care, but I couldn't exactly interrupt my jailor while he was talking. I simply kept my head down and my eyes focused on the coffee table and listened.

Firm, but gentle fingers slid under my chin, forcing me to look up into Khan's icy gaze. He didn't say anything –just sat there looking at me for a moment before speaking. "I intend to keep you here and integrate you into my crew, Ria. Resisting me is futile. You are here now, and I intend to keep you, even if my people disagree with my choice."

The grip he had on me tightened in a possessive manner. "Sadly, you are not quite the perfected specimen that my crewmembers are. Your body is weaker and your mind less advanced than ours. You are, therefore, a weakness in our armor, and must be made stronger if you are to fit in."

I glared at him and pulled away from his grip, my arms crossing as I glared at him. "I don't want to fit in," I retorted. "I don't want to be here anymore than your people want me here! If I'm as unwanted and 'inferior' as you say I am, then let me go."

Faster than I thought possible, his hand wrapped around my throat, his fingers closing just enough to let a trickle of a air through. His eyes stared into mine, filled with cold fury and a fierce intelligence that froze my breath in my lungs.

"I cannot release you, Ria," he whispered, leaning close so that his face hovered a mere inch from mine. "It would appear weak to do so, and I cannot be weak in front of my people."

The hand around my throat tightened slightly, then eased, allowing me to breathe even as his grip maintained its hold. "Besides, I have no wish to let you go. You are too valuable to me, and I rather enjoy our little chats together -they amuse me, when few things do."

His thumb moved from the side of my neck, stroking upwards and down as he continued to speak. "And to show how fond I am of you, I've managed to engage the skills of our doctor in my efforts to make you one of us."

I'd been fighting to keep my fear in check, but when he mentioned a doctor, I felt that fear break through. What did he mean, 'make me one of them?'

Khan smiled broadly. "Ah, there it is. I do like seeing that fearful expression on your lovely face."

All of a sudden, he released me and stood up, leaving me gasping on the couch. "I suggest you rest while you can, Ria. Once your time with the doctor starts, I doubt you'll be getting much of it."

He then turned and left the cabin. I, meanwhile, sat shaking with terror and shock, my mind full of the terrible things that might be in store for me.

* * *

AN: There's chapter one! More to come soon, I promise. Review?


	2. A Human Lab Experiment

Disclaimer: I own nothing _**Star Trek**_-related…though I might consider the idea of beaming Kirk, Spock, Khan, and the actors who play them to my house, once I manage to construct my own transporter. Until then, nothing is mine except original characters.

AN: Here's another chapter! I was going to post earlier, but bad weather made getting online spotty, at best; nothing like working hard on a chapter, only to lose it while trying to post it! Anyway, here it is. Many thanks so much to those who like this story already! Enjoy, and please don't forget to review.

**Chapter 2: A Human Lab Experiment:**

"Now, hold still," Doctor Richards told me as he put the hypo-spray to my arm.

He shouldn't have bothered -after a week of having his serum pumped into me, I knew the drill: lie still, let him put his experimental liquid in me, and wait to see the results. It happened several times a day, every day, whether I liked it or not.

Four days after Khan had given me the lovely news about my being 'integrated' into the crew, he himself came to tell me that I was to report to sickbay the next morning.

* * *

Sure enough, the very next day, my security detail practically marched me down to sickbay, where I was greeted by the ship's physician. He was a tall man, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes set in an expressionless face; in the black uniform preferred by Khan and his crew, seemed more like an Angel of Death than a doctor.

When I entered, it was like a scene from a horror movie: there the doctor was, standing beside a table with restraints on them. And just like one of those films, I heard the door close behind me, right before two sets of hands latched onto me.

Before I could even scream, I'd found myself strapped to the table, with a hypo-spray aimed right at the vein in my left arm. "Wait, what is that?" I demanded as the doctor injected the contents into me.

"None of your concern," he replied, handing the empty injector to an assistant.

"It is if what you're using ends up killing me," I snapped. "Now let me go and tell me what the hell you put into my body!"

For a minute, I thought one of the guards (or the doctor himself) was going to shoot me for being impertinent. Then, the doctor smiled. "So, the little kitten has claws. Well, that's good –it'll only make things a bit easier."

I had no idea what he meant then, or what it did now. All I knew was that he let me up, and sent me back to my room, guards in tow. Locked back inside my quarters, I saw that there was, surprisingly, a data pad waiting, with a bunch of reading material and puzzle games downloaded onto it.

I had no idea why Khan had done this, and should have realized that there might be something going on with him turning "nice." But since I was dying to find something to do, I snatched the thing up and began going through it, reading through the texts that had been included, and playing the games.

* * *

Unfortunately, the injections didn't stop following that one little treatment.

Several hours after my first shot, the guards retrieved me again, hauling me to sickbay where the doctor pumped another dose into me. I'd fought, of course, but the strength of Khan's people was several times that of a normal human, which made it easy for them to hold me down while the doctor did his work. I was then taken back to my rooms, my mind filled with questions about why all of this was happening.

The next morning, I was taken for a third injection. This time, I promised that I wouldn't fight, if they told me what the hell was going on. The doctor looked as though he might laugh and wave my request aside, but something changed his mind. He probably thought it'd be better having a more cooperative patient, than a fighting and pissed-off one.

"These injections were ordered specifically for you, Miss Drake," he said, loading a hypo-spray with the mystery serum. "I doubt I need to tell you who commanded me to create and give them to you."

No, he didn't, but that still didn't answer my questions. "So, what is it? A virus, maybe, or something equally bad for me?"

The doctor and his nurse, a female with black hair and sparking gray eyes, actually laughed. "No," the nurse replied. "No, as far as we're concerned, this is most certainly _not_ bad for you."

"It's actually quite good, if I do say so myself," the doctor declared, "Considering I made it."

"But what is it, and what is it supposed to do?" I loudly asked, my anger and frustration getting the better of me.

The doctor looked at me in surprise. "Why, it's supposed to make you one of us, of course."

* * *

I guess I shouldn't have been so surprised. Khan wanted me for some reason, and from the vibes I'd been getting, his people didn't want me onboard. I guess his crew had a huge superiority complex and viewed me as a lower form of human that wasn't worthy of breathing the same air as them, much less share a space ship.

The serum was supposed to change all that.

I had no idea what it was _specifically_ was supposed to do, but from what I could persuade Dr. Richards to tell me, one of its little perks was that it was going to enhance my immune system. According to him, not only would it be hard for me to get sick, but I'd recover from injuries faster than any normal human would.

"Not quite up to par with the rest of us, but close enough," the nurse had said, as the doctor administered an injection.

The doctor also informed me that serum was going to increase my physical strength as well. I wasn't sure by how much, but hopefully it'd be enough to give one of Khan's people a run for their money. If that was the case, at least I'd stand a chance if I was caught up in a fight –or when I tried to make my escape from this nightmare.

So far, I hadn't felt any different. I'd have thought that the results they were expecting would more immediate, but so far, nothing was happening. I didn't feel any more 'superior' than before –I hadn't developed anything remotely close to Superman-type strength, or an ego to match theirs. I had no way to tell if my immune system had improved, since no one onboard was sick, and there weren't any illnesses for them to use on me, thank goodness.

However, there were a few things that I considered to be "side-effects." The mixture he was using made me edgy and rather moody, both of which I could attribute to either my "monthly visitor," or my imprisonment and intense boredom. But there was something about that anxiousness that was different from mere boredom, though I had no idea what that was.

As my current dose pumped through my body, Dr. Richards looked at me closely. "How's your appetite? Have you been eating normally?" I nodded. "Good. If your food intake changes in anyway, let me know immediately."

Again, I nodded. Seeing that he'd have to really press for answers, Dr. Richards focused his eyes on mine. "Have you been playing the games included on the data pad in your quarters?" he demanded, sounding very like a general interrogating a new recruit.

_That_ was a question I hadn't been expecting. I had known that there was a motive to being provided with the data pad, but until now, I hadn't thought it was linked to my being turned into a human guinea pig.

For a moment, I considered not answering the question, but seeing how serious the doctor looked, I knew I'd better. "Yes, I have," I admitted. It was, after all, the only way for me to pass the time, short of banging my head against the wall.

"Good," he commented, looking as though he were taking notes inside his head. "And has your score on those games been steadily improving?"

I had to admit, they had. I was usually not very good in general at puzzle games, but in the past week, my scores and abilities to beat the challenges had gotten much better. I'd thought it was just my playing them nonstop, but from the way he was questioning me, it was obvious why this was.

"The serum is making me smarter, too?" I asked, amazed. Could the serum really do that? If so, I could only imagine what Starfleet (and its enemies) could do with this kind of stuff.

The men who were my guards exchanged doubtful looks while Dr. Richards smirked arrogantly. "Again, not quite on par with ours, but it will be significantly higher than the average human. We'll have to wait and see how far that goes, and in a few days, we'll test your physical strength and endurance." He grinned nastily. "The Commander is especially looking forward to being the one to test you in that aspect."

Just thinking about going up against Khan himself was enough to make me feel ill. My thoughts must have shown on my face, because the others laughed cruelly as the straps holding me down were released. My guards pulled me to my feet, and as their grip on me loosened, I noticed that the marks that had appeared after their first rough handling of me had faded dramatically –in fact, I could barely make them out.

'_Looks like that special healing factor has kicked in_,' I bitterly thought as I was led to my room, my head spinning from the new information I had learned.

* * *

Three days later, I looked at my hand and stared. The pain barely registered, though the blood coating it certainly had my attention. The guard on the sickbay bed was cursing loudly as Dr. Richards saw to his broken nose, his eyes filled with a mix of anger, hate, and, most surprisingly of all, a grudging respect as he glared at me.

"Impressive," Khan said, looking at me before focusing on his wounded man. "But sloppy on your part, Chan. Also careless –and you _know_ how I feel about carelessness."

The man, Chan, looked at his commander, a glint of fear and unease forming in his black eyes. "Yes, sir," he replied, getting to his feet at the doctor's prompting, all while wiping the drying blood from his nose. "It won't happen again, sir."

Khan's icy gaze froze the man where he stood. "No, it won't, will it? And to make sure it doesn't, I'm moving you to repair duty. You'll be at Isaacs and Miranda's beck-and-call for the next week, as well as performing your usual scheduled duties. Is that understood?"

Chan immediately stood at attention and nodded. "Yes, sir. Permission to report to engineering?"

Khan nodded. Chan saluted, turned and left, though not before casting one last glare in my direction. Once he was gone, Khan turned his attention towards me. "Well, now; that was most interesting. Richards, I believe your work is going as expected."

I didn't hear what he was saying –my mind was elsewhere.

It wasn't right, what had happened. I hadn't even known my guard's name until now –the man had treated me like crap since the beginning, and except for Dr. Richards, no one had given me their name. My guard, Chan, had come for me every day, gripping me hard by the arm and dragging me to the doctor whenever I hesitated more than a few seconds. Normally, I went without question, since I knew his grip produced bruises.

Today had been different. The uneasiness inside had been building up, and today, I'd actually been happy to get out of my cage, so I'd obediently followed Chan to sickbay without incident.

Unfortunately, Khan was there, arms crossed and seemingly expectant of something important. This unexpected turn of events had caused me, in my surprise, to hesitate in the doorway. Those few seconds of hesitation had caused Chan to reach out and grab both my arms, probably in anticipation of a struggle on my part.

The instant his hands grabbed me, something inside snapped; the feelings of isolation, anger, fear, and impatience had decided to all come out at once. Faster than I thought possible, I'd slipped out of Chan's grip and whirled around to land a fist in his face, my knuckles crushing his nose. That was how we came to where we were now.

"Come here, Miss Drake," Dr. Richards ordered, gesturing towards the bed. "Now that my other patient's been seen to, let's see if that hand of yours is broken or not."

I took a seat as he performed a brief scan of my fist. "Hmm; nothing's broken," he muttered over the scan image. "You'll be sore for the rest of the day, but with your new healing abilities, you'll be fine by tomorrow."

"What about her daily doses?" Khan inquired, studying me closely as the nurse came to wash my hand. "Where does that stand?"

"Those can be lessened starting today," Dr. Richards replied. "I believe we can go to twice a day, and once her changes become more obvious, it can go down to once every few days. We'll see how many aspects of our people's skills her body and mind can take on, and once I analyze the data, I'll stop the dosage completely."

I hated it when people talked about me while I was sitting there, but I didn't want to interrupt. So, rather than piss them off, I sat and listened, hoping to catch something useful.

"With the increase in her reflexes and emotional intensity, you'll have to find someone to train her in fighting techniques," Dr. Richards advised, looking from Khan to me and back again. "I know you said she was trained at that Academy, but she can't have learned much in so short a time. I suggest Miranda Isaacs; she's got a delicate touch when it comes to fighting. I know you want her in engineering, but this is important."

Khan clearly didn't like being told what to do, but his eyes were focused solely on me. I could see that he was thinking intensely about this. "No, I need Miranda in engineering. I will take on Miss Drake's training myself."

Fighting with Khan himself? And I'd thought my imprisonment couldn't get any worse.

It took everything I had not to vomit in fear, right then and there.

* * *

_Block, punch, spin, kick, duck, lunge_.

"Good," Khan complimented me, right before a fist came at my face. I jerked backwards, my torso bending back in a motion that would have made an Olympic gymnast green with envy. "Also good."

I knew better than to accept his compliments. Every time he made one, that only made the next attack more aggressive and intense, which meant I had to pay closer attention and keep my new, heightened senses on full alert. I'd learned this lesson the hard way, with bruises, sprains and even a few cracked ribs as punishment.

I never wanted the fight classes in the first place, but they got me out of my quarters for the afternoon, and that was somewhat of a necessity now. Throwing punches at Khan's arrogant face helped me get hold of the constant restlessness that was a side effect of the serum, a trait that seemed to be part of Khan's people. I guess it was sort of a controlled Berserker rage that had been bred into them, to keep them alert, and therefore alive, in extreme circumstances. Now it was part of me, and I had to find a way to let it out, at least until I learned to get used to it and get a firm grip on it.

So here I was, in an empty cargo bay, fighting with my captor. Even though I was getting the pulp kicked out of me, I knew that Khan was actually 'going easy' on me. Just the thought of him being even slightly gentle with me was weird enough –but what was really confusing was, if he thought I was in serious pain or had a bad injury, he'd pull back or even stop altogether, so that he could check if I was alright. If he thought I could work through the pain, he let me know, giving me only a few seconds to prepare before coming at me again -but if he thought I was genuinely hurt, it was off to sickbay, with Khan himself escorting me there, then back to my room after my treatment, so that I could rest for the night.

I had no idea why he was doing this, both to and for me. I very much doubted that he was interested in me _in that way_, but he didn't pay this kind of attention to the rest of the women onboard, and that certainly got me a lot of nasty looks in the corridors. I had the feeling that, if Khan weren't the one walking beside me, I'd have had some very bad encounters in the ship's corridors.

"You've done well," Khan commented, lowering his arms and motioning me to do the same. His retrieving our workout towels was his signal that we were done for the day. As soon as the cloth was in his hands, I slowly let my guard down and took one of the offered cloths. "Instead of going back to your quarters for the evening, you will clean yourself up and join me for dinner. I expect you to be there."

My jaw dropped. "What?" I blurted out as I looked at him in surprise.

His hand reached out and forced my mouth closed. "You will join me in my quarters for dinner after you have cleaned up," Khan repeated, eyes turning to blue ice. "Do not think that you can claim exhaustion, or any other excuse to not come."

Swallowing down my anger and unease, I nodded. My speed, agility, strength and fighting ability may have improved, but I was still no match for a one-on-one match with either Khan or his people.

Walking beside him, I entered my room, showered up, and looked through the limited clothing selection I had at my disposal. I'd been robbed of my blue Starfleet uniform after Dr. Richards had started giving me my injections –someone had swiped it while I slept, so I was forced to wear the basic black outfit favored by Khan and his crew.

When I was done, I was unsurprised to find Chan waiting outside my door, a deep scowl on his face. He still hadn't forgiven me for the broken nose, or his time as the engineering team's errand boy, but at least he'd stopped manhandling me. Seeing that I was ready, he wordlessly led me to Khan's quarters, then left me alone with the man himself.

Of course, Khan had overtaken the Captain's Quarters aboard the ship. They were larger than the standard living quarters, and had more rooms, probably the better to hold private meetings with senior crewmembers. The furniture was standard issue, and sparse –there was no warmth anywhere in this room, or in any other area of the ship, that I could see.

Again, I could see and sense the difference between the _Enterprise_ and Khan's ship. The _Enterprise_ had carried an atmosphere of warmth and camaraderie that mingled with the coldness of technology. On the _Enterprise_, people laughed, talked, joked, and enjoyed spending time with friends in their off-hours. Sometimes, I heard people humming as they worked, which only made things more fun and interesting. I missed that.

Here, everything was very utilitarian. While everyone worked well together, detecting some kind of affection between two people was nearly impossible –at least for me. There were no bouts of lighthearted teasing between crewmembers, or open flirtations being shared. I heard no music anywhere, and any laughter I heard was controlled and brief. The entire ship was depressing and eerie, to say the least.

In the darkness of Khan's dining area, there stood a table set with a simple meal and two flickering tea lights. Khan himself sat in the chair furthest from the door, eyes fixed on me as he offered the chair with a simple turn of his hand. "Please, sit."

It was more of a command than a request, but I didn't dare disobey. I took the offered chair, my body tense as I looked at the food on the table rather than the man across from me. Meat, potatoes, peas, and a basket of bread rolls –hearty stuff; good for people who worked hard and needed to refuel constantly. I was also surprised to see a bottle of wine, with two filled glasses on the table.

"Please eat," my host said, again in a tone that commanded rather than asked.

We ate and finished our meal in silence. Once the plates were cleaned, I sat back and waited, sipping my wine and wondering why I was here and what Khan had to say to me now.

Picking up his glass, Khan swirled the red liquid for a moment before taking a sip. "Ria, as you know, I intend for you to become a useful addition to my crew. I know that most, if not all of them, consider you inferior and unworthy of being one of us, which is why I ordered Dr. Richards to create the serum that currently flows in your veins."

'_Yes, thanks so much for that bit of consideration_.' I barely swallowed my mouthful of wine, the bitter thought twisting my insides.

"However, should they decide that things would be better without you, I do not think it will be enough to protect you," he continued, the threat he presented very thinly veiled. He gently set down his glass and reached out to clasp one of my hands in his. "Therefore, I think it might be wise for you to consider a permanent place very close to my side."

My mouth instantly went dry, the food in my stomach churning bitterly as I tried to sort through the suggestion he had just made. There were a few ways to interpret his words, but with the way he was holding my hand, I could only guess…

"As the woman who stands by my side, you would be protected, and in a significant position of power," he offered, his voice smooth, deep and tantalizing. "You would have the best of everything –after me, of course. Anything you suggest would come directly to my ears, and once you have been trained to your full potential, you could have the others at your feet, either by willing allegiance or by triumphing over them in hand-to-hand combat."

He paused. "It is an offer I have made to no other woman, not even in my own century." The hand on mine squeezed tightly for a moment before letting go. "I do hope you will consider it."

For some, this would have been a no-brainer: take the offer, and run with it. The offer of power and position would have been too much for them to resist, especially given the current situation. Others would have needed a little time to think about it, before taking what Khan had offered to them on a silver platter. A few would have given in out of fear and the need for self-preservation.

As for me, I refused to give in so quickly. I was not as fearful as I had been before receiving the serum –I now had a weapon in my arsenal that would prove useful in escaping this ship and getting back to the _Enterprise_. True, I now had a bit of an emotional problem, but I think Spock could help me out with that one –the Vulcan people were known for suppressing emotions, and since I felt that I could count on Spock as a friend, I believed that he would be willing to assist me with my issues.

Swallowing down the bile that was slowly creeping up my esophagus, I pushed down the feelings of panic and fear that had been building up. "I would like some time to carefully consider your offer," I diplomatically told him.

Khan's blue eyes studied me intensely for a moment, but in the end, he nodded. "Very well," he conceded. "But our lessons in combat continue as scheduled. I have also been provided with the scores you've received in your puzzle games, and I am impressed with the increase in your observational and strategic abilities. I will have Isaacs provide a few hundred more puzzles and bits of reading material for you to browse through."

Nodding, I took a quiet, deep breath to calm down. "Thank you. May I return to my quarters? I am rather tired."

He nodded his permission and pressed a button that appeared to be hidden beneath the table. "But do think about what I have said, Ria. I expect an answer in a relatively short amount of time."

"I will," I replied as Chan came through the door. "Good night."

Rather than flee blindingly through the corridors, I somehow managed to keep a steady pace on the way to my quarters. It was only once I was alone that I let myself break down and cry.

* * *

Looking at his wine glass, Khan felt himself smile in satisfaction.

His offer to Ria had been a good strategic one, but it was also a personal matter. He wanted her, not only as a means to save his people, but also to provide him with a constant presence that could satisfy him the way a woman compliments a man.

And he meant to have her, by any means necessary.

* * *

AN: Longer chapter this time. I hope everyone enjoyed, and will review? Thanks!


	3. Impossible Discoveries

Disclaimer: I own nothing _**Star Trek**_-related…though I might consider the idea of beaming Kirk, Spock, Khan, and the actors who play them to my house, once I manage to construct my own transporter. Until then, nothing is mine except original characters.

AN: Here's the next chapter! Enjoy!

**Chapter 3: Impossible Discoveries:**

I'd assumed that Khan's time limit on my consideration of his offer would be a short one, and so I had begun to let panic sink in rather quickly, before I calmed down and tried to think clearly.

Without a specific amount of time given to me, I generally guessed that he wanted my reply before the universe ended, but presumably not _too_ soon, so that he could be sure that I hadn't made any hasty choices. As a leader and a warrior, he was used to working under pressure, and making quick decisions –since I was neither, I believed that he was going to give me ample time to carefully consider the matter, before coming to a conclusion.

I was right.

A week later, following a regimental of daily mental exercises on my data pad, followed by a light lunch, and afternoon fight practice with Khan himself, there wasn't a single mention of his offer. There were no coy words, no prodding looks, nothing -not even during the evening meals I was forced to eat with him.

This worried me, of course. I'd expected glares, and the constant barrage of demands that I get on with it and choose whether or not to become Khan's "intimate companion." Yes, there were worse words for what he intended for me to be, but if I thought about it that way, I began feeling nauseous, so I tried to think clean thoughts about it. It didn't help much, but given my situation, a little comfort was better than none.

It was that small bit of comfort that helped me when the injections kept coming. Dr. Richards seemed to get a kick out of pumping me full of the mixture he'd made, and studying the results was a joyride for him. Khan seemed pleased with it, too, but for very different reasons.

Unfortunately, as time progressed, I could feel that I had reached certain limits with the abilities that I developed. While it was true that I stronger, with faster reflexes and a quicker healing factor than a normal human, none of it was anywhere near as good as Khan's, or his people's. Khan had taken me to one of their training sessions, where I saw his fighters pushed to the brink of their skills –it didn't take an idiot to see that I was vastly inferior to them, even with the serum.

As the limits revealed themselves during my sessions with him, I began to wonder if Khan would begin to lose interest in me. After all, I wasn't as good as the others, and the weakest link. Why would the leader of such a hostile, warrior-type people want me if I was the weakest of the lot?

Not that I wanted him interested in me; far from it. No, I worried more about the fact that he might _lose_ interest, because the moment that happened, I was dead. He was very much like a predator, and all predators wanted a mate who was strong enough to lead the pack that followed them. If I was viewed as too inferior to them, the others would lash out, and then I'd be torn to pieces –in a very literal way.

So it was for my own safety that I keep Khan's attentions, even if it made me sick to think about it that way.

* * *

Ria was struggling with her decision –Khan could sense that much.

She did not want him, but he was her only hope of survival on a ship full of skilled fighters who viewed her as an insect. With no other options, Ria had no choice but to do what he told her. She wasn't one of his people, yet, but like all humans, she knew that in order to stay alive, she had to do what was needed, and expected.

But even in spite of her willingness to obey him, Khan wanted something more. He both wanted and needed her to agree to stay aboard, and there were few ways he could persuade her to do that.

He could threaten her; it was an old ploy, and if overused, it could only jade the person he was threatening. Still, it was effective. But even though he was fond of using threats, Khan knew that it was the wrong tactic. Ria had to be willing to join his cause, and the use of threats or violence against her would only serve to quickly drive her away.

Tempting or negotiation was a possibility. He had watched her progress over the past two weeks, and even though her advancement was impressive, she was still far from the standard that his people lived up to. Offering his protection had been a good idea, but there would have to be further offers to gain her loyalty and willingness to stay. But if bribery wasn't enough, he would have to find another way.

Perhaps, if she had a personal connection to the ship, she would better consider the idea of staying…

* * *

I immediately knew that something different was going on with this particular to Dr. Richards.

As I was about to take my usual spot on the bed used for my injections, he instead motioned to a different bed, one with additional vials lying on a tray nearby. Since I already knew that the serum used on me was blue in color, the green and yellow vials stood out like warning signs.

"What are those?" I asked, eying the tray closely.

"Just some adjustments to the treatments I've been giving you," the doctor replied calmly.

After all the time I'd spent with the man, I could tell when he was lying. Right now, he was partly telling the truth: it was an adjustment, but there was something else going on, and he wasn't going to tell me what it was.

Sighing, I went to the bed and lay down. I suppose most people would try to fight and resist in some way, but considering who I'd be going up against, it wasn't a good idea -Khan's people were ruthless when they were determined to have things done their way, and fighting would have only gotten me badly hurt, or killed. Since I wasn't ready to die just yet, I let them do what they wanted.

'_Besides, it's not like the serum is hurting me_,' I reasoned as the blue vial was emptied into my arm. '_It actually gives me several tools to use, for when I finally manage to get away_.'

It was all part of my half-assed plan to get out of here. With my increase in strength, as well as Khan's instructions in fighting, I was beginning to hope that, on an off chance that I somehow found a means of getting away, that I'd at least be able to hold my own if I encountered any of his people.

Unfortunately, any opportunity for escape was small, at best. I tried figuring out the work schedule by watching what people went where, and at what time, but since I was only allowed outside my quarters a limited time every day, all of my observations had holes big enough for a ship to sail through.

I'd briefly entertained the idea of using the numerous hatches and tubes that ran throughout the ship, for the engineers to use to make internal repairs, but since Khan's crewmembers were still working on keeping and getting the ship together, I knew there was a great risk in encountering someone. I also had no idea where the nearest hatch entrance to my quarters was, which didn't help matters. Nor did I have access to the layouts of the ship to study.

'_Besides, even if I managed to navigate the internal hatches and crawlspaces, I'd have to end up someplace that could somehow get me off the ship_,' I told myself as another vial was sent into my veins. '_If I could get to the transporters, or the escape pods, that might be something_.'

But then, where would I go? I had no idea which sector of space we were in, so I had no idea if we were near any inhabitable planets. An escape pod was the best option, but they would immediately know I was missing, and they could use a tractor beam to pull me back. Even if I did somehow get out of range, I had the same problem of finding out where I was, and how to get to Federation space for help. Escape pods weren't known for their ability to go far, or very fast.

"Now, this one is going to be a bit different from the others," Dr. Richards informed me out of the blue, his words immediately getting my attention.

"Wait, what? What do you mean?" I demanded, my senses immediately going on high alert.

The smile he gave wasn't very reassuring. "This particular injection has to be made in the abdomen. It won't hurt, but you'll feel a bit of pressure. Just lie there and hold still."

Before I could react, the hypo-spray was pressed against my stomach, and its contents emptied there.

No, wait –that wasn't my stomach. I would have felt it enter my belly, so it wasn't there that the vial was emptied. It was lower than that…

I didn't have time to consider it, because the good doctor helped me sit up, and told me I could go. I walked out of sickbay feeling sick, afraid, and confused. What had they done to me this time?

* * *

That was the one and only time three injections were given to me at once. After that, it was the usual single dose, and for a while, my days went on as normal.

It wasn't until several weeks passed that I noticed that Khan was giving me odd looks during our training sessions. It was almost like he was quietly studying me -for what, I didn't know, but since it was Khan, it probably wasn't anything good.

This slight change in his demeanor was enough to get my attention –given who he was and what he was genetically engineered to be, he was supposed to be a cool, calculating fighting machine, with little care about the welfare of 'lower beings' like me. So, obviously, I quickly decided to return the favor: as he studied me, I would watch and see if anything else changed about him.

Slowly, it became apparent that Khan's attitude in handling my physical training was softening slightly. To me, it was as though he were trying to teach me much as he would one of his own, but in another way, he seemed to be worried about damaging me. I still received the expected bruises, bumps, cuts and aches, but mostly, it seemed that Khan seemed determined not to harm me in any way that resulted in severe injury.

A month or so after that odd trio of injections, I arrived at sickbay, ready for my usual treatment, when I noticed that Khan himself was there. I figured he was there for a progress report, but then remembered that the updates were usually sent to his office. The fact that he was physically here meant that he was eager for the results, which made me more than a little suspicious.

After the serum was administered, the doctor took some blood, and proceeded to scan them right then and there, while I was still in the room. He then motioned for Khan to follow him, and the two went into the doctor's office, leaving me sitting on the bed under the watchful eye of the nurse.

It felt like forever before they came back out, but when they did, Khan looked unexpectedly pleased. The doctor looked arrogant as ever, and from the looks he was giving his nurse, I could only guess what was going to happen after Khan and I left.

"Good news, I take it?" I sarcastically remarked as Khan reached out to help me off the hospital bed.

"Very," he replied with a slight smile. "Now, it's time for practice."

I followed, even though my mind didn't stop wondering just what had happened. For Khan to be that happy had to mean something significant had to be happening with me. What it could be, I could only guess, but I knew it probably meant something very bad for me.

* * *

Time passed in a typical routine, and soon, one day blended into another. I soon lost track of time, and how long I'd been aboard Khan's vessel. I could ask the computer the date, but I knew that it would only depress me even more than I already was.

Obviously, I was lonely. I had no friends amongst the crew, and I wasn't allowed to leave my quarters for anything other than my visits to sickbay and my bouts with Khan. My data pad was my only source of amusement, and the paper journal I kept my only companion. Alone in my quarters, I often jotted down my low spirits on paper, and when words weren't enough, I began teaching myself to draw, to better express how I felt.

So, day in and day out, that's how things stood. The only things that changed was my progress in matching wits and fists with Khan, whose behavior towards me softened further, much to my confusion and concern. I still couldn't figure out why this was –part of me wanted to think that, maybe, he was developing truly romantic feelings for me, but my sensible side said that kind of sentimentality was impossible for a man of Khan's caliber.

Then, one morning, I woke feeling sick, and raced to the bathroom, where I ended up vomiting into my toilet. At first, in my sleep-fogged brain, I thought that it might have been something I'd eaten the night before, at Khan's table. Or maybe it was the flu or something.

When I was a little more awake, I realized that, with my new immune system, food poisoning, illness, and food allergies were no longer an issue for me. So why was I suddenly feeling like I wanted to hurl my stomach into the toilet?

When my escort to the doctor arrived, I made a note to mention this, as soon as possible.

* * *

Like any doctor who knew their patients, Dr. Richards took one look at me and knew something was up. "Something wrong, Ria? You are very pale."

The lack of concern in his voice made me glare at him as I replied, "I just spent several hours being sick in my bathroom. I figured that, since I'm supposed to be immune to illness, _something_ has to be wrong with the stuff you've been giving me."

Dr. Richards kept a straight face as he looked me over. After a few minutes of examination, I watched as he took a vial of blood, which promptly went straight to the analysis machine. A few minutes later, it finished, and Dr. Richards took a moment to review the results while I tried to catch a glimpse of it.

"Not now," he said when he caught me at it. "Nadia, get the Commander up here, would you?"

Now armed with the nurse's name (it had never been mentioned during my previous visits), I watched Nadia head off to do as ordered. Why Khan would care if I was sick was beyond me, but I guess after so much time and investment, he'd want to know why his little science experiment was suddenly experiencing side effects.

I waited as their esteemed leader was called, and arrived in record time. He gave me a quick look as he passed by me to the doctor's office, but other than that, there was no real acknowledgement of me. Frowning, I shifted in my seat as Dr. Richards finished giving me a quick once-over exam, my head filled with questions about what was going on, and doubts about whether or not they were going to actually tell me what was wrong.

* * *

Pacing around the doctor's office, Khan waited for Richards to pull way from Ria's side and tell him what he'd discovered in the latest examination.

After what felt like an eternity, he saw his medical officer make his way towards the office, a blank expression on his face until he could activate the newly-installed privacy screen. The use of precious materials on what the crew considered a frivolous thing had caused some discontent, but when Khan asked whether or not people wanted their weaknesses witnessed by others, they had quieted.

"Well?" he demanded as the screen finished spreading across the glass walls, sealing them in.

Richards smiled. "It's as you requested. It's done."

Khan felt an immense satisfaction that he'd never experienced before. "Excellent. If all goes well, Richards, I'll make sure that you're well rewarded for this."

Giving quick bow, followed by a quick salute, Richards turned his attention back in the direction Ria was in. "Should we tell her? She'll want to know, of course –she _has_ to know, so that she can make sure to take certain precautions in the future."

Khan considered it. "No," he firmly told his crewman. "I'll tell her. All you may tell her is to return to her quarters for the day, to rest, and that I expect her in my quarters for dinner. Meanwhile, say nothing to anyone, and order Nadia to remain silent, if she knows what's good for her."

With another salute, Richards nodded and went to speak to his assistant, leaving Khan alone to ponder his next tactic.

* * *

I was shocked to receive a day off, but I didn't question it. I was grateful to be given the chance to be lazy while I was experiencing what I believed to be side effects from Dr. Richards's serum. If something were actually wrong, Dr. Richards would be panicking –since he wasn't, what I was experiencing had to be just a little setback of his experiments.

Unfortunately, I still had to join Khan for dinner. This was not a good idea, since I wasn't able to keep much of anything down, but when the time came, I managed to swallow down a little water and hold my head up as I headed down the corridors with my guard close behind. As usual, Chan kept a respectful distance from me, though nothing stopped the hard glare he leveled at me as I walked beside him.

Inside Khan's quarters, I was seated in my usual place across from him, and watched as he poured water instead of wine for the two of us. I was grateful for this, and carefully sipped the cool liquid as the lids of our plates were lifted off by Chan, who immediately retreated to the hallway once his last task was done.

The smell of the food made my stomach churn. "Um, I don't think eating is a good idea for me right now," I said, turning away from the plate.

Khan, surprisingly, whisked the plate away immediately, leaving the rolls on the table beside me as he put my plate on a nearby desk. "Now, Ria," he said, leaning back in his chair. "I suppose it is time to discuss your decision on whether or not you will be remaining on my vessel, and at my side."

He smirked. "After all, you are now carrying my child."

I froze in my seat. What had he said? "That's not possible," I told him firmly. "We've never been intimate in any way. There's no possible way I'm pregnant."

"And yet, here you are, experiencing morning sickness," he casually replied, as though it were nothing. "I can assure you, you are pregnant. Dr. Richards has confirmed it."

I felt as though I were going to be sick again. This was not happening. It _could not_ be happening!

Mentally going back, I tried to calculate my monthly periods. There were ways for dealing with them these days, and true to form, I'd done a good job sticking to _that_ particular regiment!

But lately, I _had_ noticed that something was off. I hadn't noted it at first –I just figured that it was the serum at work, combined with the medication that women took in regards for their monthly cycles these days. My moods hadn't been stable, but then, given my current situation, was it any wonder that some days I was fine, and others I felt really depressed?

And now it turns out it was something far more than that. Somehow, by some horrible way, I was pregnant.

Now what was I going to do?

* * *

AN: So, I have no idea if they have special medications for women's periods in _Star Trek_, but I figured that, with all their medical technology, they might. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed themselves, and will leave a review. Thanks so much!


	4. Determination

Disclaimer: I own nothing _**Star Trek**_-related…though I might consider the idea of beaming Kirk, Spock, Khan, and the actors who play them to my house, once I manage to construct my own transporter. Until then, nothing is mine except original characters.

AN: Here's the next chapter! Sorry I didn't post earlier; my computer was on the fritz, so I had to wait a couple days. Anyway, please enjoy, and don't forget to review. Thanks!

**Chapter 4: Determination:**

After returning to my quarters from a meal I couldn't remember, I very briefly entertained the thought of Immaculate Conception.

Then nausea hit me again, and it took a while to come back to reality. As I swallowed down the bile rising up in my throat, I took a seat on my couch and stared into the air above the coffee table.

"I'm pregnant," I whispered, one hand drifting to my stomach while the other hung limply at my side. How was this possible?

My brain quickly took that thought and ran with it. Khan had never really touched me in any way that suggested he wanted to bed me, and the idea of having sex with him was enough to make me want to vomit all over again. And I was positive I was still a virgin; a girl would notice that sort of thing, right?

'_So, that leaves the usual method out._' The next one: science.

Artificial insemination was the only explanation. As my head cleared, I realized that I knew exactly when this had happened: the day Dr. Richards had given me three injections in a row.

No matter what I expected, that realization wasn't it. I had honestly believed that those other two had been some other kind of experiment, but the idea that it was all to get me pregnant had never entered my mind. I'd believed that it was only to make me more like Khan's people, a more efficient means to an end.

But why would Khan order this? What did he have to gain from getting the girl he considered a scientific guinea pig pregnant with his baby? What sort of sick game was he playing?

For a few minutes, I got seriously pissed off, and considered wrecking my quarters, all while screaming my anger and frustration. I wanted to punch a hole in the wall, and demand answers to my questions. I even considered the idea of going on a hunger strike, or some other kind of protest against what he was doing.

Then, a strange, cool sensation ran through me, and I felt the heat of my anger slowly fade. As angry as I was about this, I couldn't afford to lose my temper. Oh, there was nothing more I wanted to do than kick the crap out of Khan and his doctor, but I knew I wouldn't be able to –I wasn't strong or fast enough to fight and beat them, and I'd only end up getting myself killed for no reason.

Fighting down the anger boiling inside, I tried to figure things out rationally, just like I'd been taught at the Academy by one of the few Vulcan instructors there. She had (in a very roundabout way) said that getting angry and losing control tended to make a person act out at just the wrong time and place, which would only make things worse. If I wanted to make it out of this in one piece, I had to keep a level head.

Taking a deep breath, I started thinking everything over. I knew that Khan wanted me to stay here, but I had no idea _why_. He could have any woman he wanted, and I had no doubts that there were at least a handful of attractive females amongst his crew, some of whom would gladly have agreed to provide him with a baby, no problem.

I, however, was a problem. I wasn't "one of them," no matter what they did to scientifically enhance me. Why choose me for this insane idea? Why choose me to have his child?

My stomach churned as that last thought really hit me. I was pregnant with Khan's baby.

The sensation of drops falling down my face made me realize that I was crying. This was the last thing I wanted. Why was he doing this to me? If I hadn't fully believed that he was an evil man, I truly did now. This violation of my body was horrifying and depressing, and I had no idea how to handle it.

The hand that rested on my belly began rubbing the warm sanctuary that held the newly forming being. For a brief second, I considered ending it all, but I couldn't do that –could I? No, that wasn't me –that wasn't how I did things. I'd survived three hundred years or more as an ice cube, woken up in another century, and even after finding out that everyone I'd ever loved was dead, I pushed onwards.

'_Plus, Mom and Dad would never forgive me if I threw away this second chance at life_,' I lectured myself. They may be gone, but the lessons they'd taught me were still here. I'd just have to look at this situation in another way.

After a good hour, I finally had it: I'd always wanted to have kids, but never had the chance to.

In my century, I'd never had a serious boyfriend, and as I'd begun to get older, it looked like being a mom was something that would never happen. I'd considered the idea of adopting a child, when I felt more emotionally and financially stable, but it was something that had been at least five or ten years off. Or, barring that, I figured to at least mentor the less-fortunate kids out in the world.

Now here I was, pregnant with a brilliant madman's baby. Would this little boy or girl turn out like its father, or would it be more like me? They said that kids were half one parent, and half the other, so would mine be a psycho with a slightly gentle heart or conscience?

'_I could raise it to be good. I could help it become a decent person, one who respects life and the emotions of others_.'

And why not? One of my aunts had said that I'd be a good mother, and here was a chance to be one.

'_But it would be Khan's baby. What guarantee do I have that it won't go bad, like its father_?'

Could I somehow manage to terminate this pregnancy? Back in my time, doing so was a touchy subject, particularly in instances that were similar to mine. However, I'd fully respected both sides of the argument, and understood them –I tried not to judge the choices of the mothers who decided on that particular course of action.

Now it was my turn to choose. I felt violated by what Khan had done (or had ordered done), but the part of me that wanted to be a mom, along with that overprotective nature of mine, shone through all that. Maternal instinct kicked in, and with that, I made my decision.

* * *

Remembering the look on Ria's face upon learning the news, Khan smiled and leaned back in his chair. He had donated certain materials for this experiment; it was good to know that they hadn't been wasted.

Truth be told, he'd made children before, but this time, he actually cared about what happened to his offspring. This particular child would bridge his people to the universe they now lived in, and with his guidance, it would one day rule over his people and their descendants.

'_Boy or girl, this child will be strong_,' he thought to himself as he considered the reports in front of him. '_He or she will be strong in mind, body and spirit, but with a little of Ria's openness and gentleness and patience_.'

In spite of what his people might think, Khan was a bit fond of her, and he fully intended to have Ria at his side, the two of them raising their child together. '_Well, I will have the firmer hand in the baby's upbringing, but she will have her turn in teaching it_.'

He would ensure that is offspring, male or female, would be able to lead their people into the wide reaches of space, and Ria's gentle hand would ensure that the child had a delicate, more diplomatic touch when it came to dealing with others.

'_How unfortunate that, in this century, a crushing blow to the head is deemed barbaric when talking with stubborn diplomats_,' he thought with a nostalgic sigh.

It had been so much easier to handle those he didn't like back then! There had been no verbal dancing around, no having to try and please all parties as much as possible while having to surrender what he and his people needed most. A simple show of military power had been all that was required during "negotiations" with the other nations of his world –he simply had to show the strength of his fighters, and the ambassadors had agreed to nearly all of his demands.

Setting aside the work he was supposed to be doing, Khan picked up a data pad, fingers flying over the screen as he began a list of educational requirements for his child. The future of his people rested on how well he taught his son or daughter –he would not let either himself or his child fail them.

* * *

From the looks Thomas had been getting on his walks through the halls, he knew that Nadia must have said something to one of her "friends" amongst the crew.

As a doctor, Thomas Richards fully believed in keeping his patient's conditions and treatments confidential. In a group where any sign of weakness meant you were a "lesser" person, it was vital that his patient's secrets remain just that: secret. He did not like seeing his patients taunted or mistreated for reasons beyond their control. That in itself was his weakness, but it was a belief that he held to.

But even if Nadia was young, she was also his nurse –unlike the others, she had wanted to be a nurse, and because he had taken her on, she respected him and his orders. But sometimes, her love of gossip overrode her good sense. He'd have to find a means of reprimanding her for speaking of their Commander's private business.

"Nadia," he said, motioning her towards his office, a disapproving scowl on his face. "I need to speak to you."

She knew that he was angry, so she put on her most flirtatious smile, not knowing that it would have no effect on him this time. She may be his lover (at least, for now), so it was understandable that that sense of being linked to a favorite of Khan's had gone to her head.

But being a favorite of Khan's also meant that Thomas was fiercely loyal to him, and would do anything that his Commander asked. If Nadia did anything to jeopardize Khan's plans, Thomas would kill her himself.

"You've been talking to people, haven't you?" he said coldly, using the tone of voice that even she took seriously. "You talked about our leader's plans, when you should have kept it secret."

The flirtatious look on her face melted away to fear. "I couldn't help it," she whispered, fingers clenched at her side. "Miranda and some of the crew already knew that something was going on, and they wanted answers. I'm no match for the men she hangs out with!"

That was true enough –Miranda Isaacs had some very intelligent, very strong men in her area, and if they wanted to know something, they'd do anything to get the information. Still, that was no excuse for blatantly telling confidential information to others, and he told her so.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said, head lowering. "I did try, but when they ganged up on me…And they are part of the crew. We don't keep secrets from our own, but if we did, it isn't for very long."

Again, that was true. "I'll have to tell the Commander about this," Thomas stated, causing her to look at him in absolute terror. "He'll probably want to discipline you himself, but I'll do my best to try and make sure it isn't too much for you to handle."

His nurse looked torn between hope and terror. "Thank you, sir," she whispered. "May I return to my post now?"

He nodded, allowing her to retreat. Now came the hard part: telling his superior officer.

* * *

"If I didn't need every member of my crew, I'd have her shot," Khan snapped at his medical officer. "As it is, I'll let her live, but make sure that she gets a solid beating. I won't have her forget her place, and the requirements that come with it."

Richards nodded. "Yes, sir," he replied. "Will you be addressing the crew about this matter? They'll want to know what's fact and what's rumor."

Yes, unfortunately, he'd have to. More than likely, all sorts of gossip and rumors were being passed around the ship, and if he didn't put them in check, it could cause rebellion to stir. He couldn't have that, now, could he?

But before he did that, he needed to speak to Ria.

* * *

Putting a hand over my belly, I sat up straight as Khan strolled into my quarters. I didn't dare ask him what was wrong –all I saw was the furious look on his face, and knew that something had happened.

"I must tell the crew about the child," he declared, his voice full of cold fury. "You will remain here, with your door locked. If anyone tries to break in to harm you, you have the skills to fight. Use them, and if necessary, kill your opponent."

I swallowed, thinking about the life growing inside me as he looked at me. Then I realized he expected a response, so I reluctantly nodded, indicating I would do as he asked.

I was shocked as a rather tender look flashed across his face for a brief second, a look that vanished just as quickly as it had appeared. "Stay safe. A guard of those I fully trust will be outside your door, and they will be armed." Then he was gone.

As the doors swiftly opened and shut behind him, I saw the five men and women there, serious looks upon their faces as they took their posts. They would protect me with their lives, because their leaded demanded it.

Once again alone with my thoughts, I began to think about what to do next. I knew I would keep this baby, but what about his or her future? What would become of it after it was born?

'_I can't let it grow up here_,' I told myself. '_I don't want it to be like its father_.'

But I had no doubt of what Khan wanted for this child: a carbon-copy of him, only with better diplomatic skills and the ability to actually be decent to people from other races. He'd probably let me interact with the baby, but in all likelihood, it'd be a short meeting –he couldn't risk me possibly turning the child against him, or worse, make it 'soft.'

No, I couldn't let my baby become a tyrant. Like all parents, I wanted what was best for it, and the future I hoped for had to be as far away from Khan as possible.

But how was I going to escape? If my chances of getting away had been slim before, they were going to be non-existent now. Khan would never let me off this ship as long as I was pregnant, and after the baby was born, he needed me to help raise his 'heir,' so letting me go free wasn't an option either.

"I need to get out of here," I whispered to myself, eyes darting around as I tried to think.

Unfortunately, escaping from a dangerous situation wasn't something I'd learned at the Academy –though there probably was a course for it. I'd only learned the basics of everything, with the hope of learning more from experience aboard the _Enterprise_. It really was too bad I'd only been aboard such a short time, and learned mostly stuff having to do with medicine and sickbay, rather than getting out of harrowing situations.

"I'll think of something," I promised both myself and the child inside me.

I had to. If I didn't, both of our lives would be hell.

* * *

"That went better than expected," Thomas muttered as Khan paced his quarters. "At least no one tried to throw a knife at you."

It'd happened before; lucky for him, Khan knew how to catch blades in midair. "That would have been preferable to them staying so quiet." Open hostilities, he could deal with –quiet, hidden ones were much more complicated to see to.

"I think half of them are on your side, and a good number of them aren't sure what to think," Thomas went on, as though Khan hadn't spoken. "The others are firmly against having a woman like Miss Drake carrying your child. You could have chosen any one of them for the task, and I think they would have happily done it."

When Khan had escaped his frozen prison for a second time, he'd briefly considered having one of his female crewmembers bear his child. After all, they were determined, in prime physical condition, highly intelligent, and in some cases, quite attractive; all were qualities most men looked for in a mate. He also knew that many would have simply done it out of loyalty to him.

A commander taking one of his own as a mate, or simply a means to produce a child, had been a typical thing in his century –in fact, many leaders had done it, either with a single chosen wife, or a harem of women, to produce as many offspring as possible to secure the strength of their bloodlines and people. After all, with his created race, inbreeding wasn't much of a problem.

But in the here and now, he needed Ria to be the one to help his people. The child she carried was important, and it had to be kept safe from those who would try and harm it.

"I want a guard of my most loyal and skilled officers at Ria's door at all times," he ordered, his tone causing Richards to straighten up. "And make sure that Miranda Isaacs keeps a close eye on what is being produced by Ria's replicator. I don't want someone catching her unawares with some type of poison."

Taking a seat, Khan began drumming on a nearby tabletop. "I want you to keep a close eye on her health as well -she may have been altered, but her physicality isn't perfect. If something even remotely changes in her health or appetite, notify me immediately. _Nothing_ can happen to my child."

Hearing the dismissal in Khan's voice, Richards saluted and left to carry out his orders. '_At least I know I can trust him_,' Khan thought, eyes drifting to look at the floor. '_He will ensure that my child arrives safely_.'

Right now, it was the group of doubters that troubled him most. They likely thought that they could go on as they once had, using their strength and wits to overpower their enemies and rule them by force. At the height of his power, Khan had ruled many, and his soldiers had everything they wanted thrown at them, all of it a reward for their hard work. Now they wanted the luxurious life back, along with the fighting and killing of those who dared oppose them.

That was not possible in this time. They needed a new way of life, and his child would be the one to bring it to them. It would take much longer now, to achieve the wealth and luxuries they had once possessed, and much more hard work. Diplomacy did not come naturally to his fighters –it was a skill that they would probably never learn, but Khan hoped that their offspring or descendants would adopt it, for the sake of survival.

But how was he to deal with these doubters? '_I'll have to show them that this will work. They will watch Ria teach our child the skills it needs, and they will see that we need a new path to follow_.'

It would be a long and difficult process, but it would work. It had to, if they were going to thrive.

* * *

AN: Review?


	5. Subtle Hostilities

Disclaimer: I own nothing _**Star Trek**_-related…though I might consider the idea of beaming Kirk, Spock, Khan, and the actors who play them to my house, once I manage to construct my own transporter. Until then, nothing is mine except original characters.

AN: I am so sorry about not posting earlier; we had a power outage, which sadly meant no computer access. (image of sad face here) But, here I am today, with a fresh new chapter! Please enjoy, and don't forget to review!

**Chapter 5: Subtle Hostilities:**

The crew knew about the baby –Khan had told me as much, and he'd said that they had accepted it. Still, it was nerve-wracking, walking down the hallway with most of them looking at me as though I were the plague.

On the flipside of the coin, others seemed to think I was carrying the future of their people inside me. In a way, that was true, but that seemed to be all of the acknowledgement I was going to get from Khan's followers: either complete disgust and hatred, or a semblance of deference and respect as I passed by. Some appeared to be caught between the two parties, as though they couldn't decide how to treat me, so they simply got out of my way and kept their hostilities hidden.

Those walks down the corridors of the ship were now the longest minutes of my life. Even the time I spent in my quarters was preferable to wondering whether or not someone was going to pull out a phaser and shoot me right then and there.

Unfortunately, my lessons with Khan were now deemed a necessity. With the crew uneasy about me, I had to be able to defend myself from anything that might come my way. I didn't think that I'd ever be a great fighter, but hopefully I'd have enough skills to keep myself alive in a tough situation.

However, as the days passed, slowly turning into weeks and months, the Doctor decided that fighting lessons weren't going to stay an option for me. "You'll need exercise for sure, but that kind of activity won't be good for you, or the baby."

Khan, of course, disagreed. Rather than cancel my lessons completely, he selected fight methods that I could do, even with my growing stomach. I knew it was mostly to keep the baby safe, but I really wanted to believe there was the chance that he wanted me to stay safe, too. Talk about wishful thinking on my part.

The other downside of my pregnancy: as my stomach grew, so did my visits to sickbay, the center of my misery –aside from Khan, that is.

Sitting there getting physical examinations twice a week was excessive, in my opinion, but no one wanted to take the chance that something bad might happen to the baby. So, every few days, I was led to sickbay by Khan himself, who insisted on hearing every little detail of my exams from the Doctor as it was being given to me.

I'd have thought that with my new abilities, I wouldn't have to worry so much about things going wrong. Now that I had a heightened healing factor, plus an increase in strength and near perfect health, I didn't see the need to have the Doctor hovering over me more than a few times a month. The fact that he wanted to see me twice a week had to mean that they were worried about how things would turn out, or fearful of my possibly causing myself to 'lose' the baby.

As it was, I'd been tempted to punch the Doctor or his nurse in the face during each exam –but with Khan standing there, an impassive and stern look in his face as he looked at me, I knew it would be a bad idea. Pregnant I may be, but Khan wouldn't think it funny if I hurt one of his most loyal crewmembers, and I feared what he might do in retaliation.

Looking out of the corner of my eye, I kept my ears open and the rest of my senses on high alert as Doctor Richards gave a report on his most recent findings. "The child appears to be in perfect health, sir," he said, handing a data pad to his leader. "At this point, we're able to identify the gender. Would you like to know the sex of the child?"

Khan's eyes lit up in a way I'd never expected to see. "Tell me!" he demanded, eyes eager.

The Doctor smiled. "It's a boy."

I swore I heard an intake of breath, as though he couldn't believe what the Doctor had said. I watched in amazement as, for a brief second, Khan looked like any other expected father: excitement, hope, joy, and wonder all flashed across his normally impassive face.

Then I blinked, and it was gone, replaced by the serious, level-headed leader that he always was.

"Excellent," he coolly commented. "Ria, I will take you back to your room."

Hoping off the bed, I followed him to my quarters, my head spinning with the news.

* * *

As it turned out, even having a boy made no difference when it came to soothing the ruffled feathers of Khan's people. The crew seemed to resent me more, actually, if the angry glares that followed me everywhere were any indication of their feelings.

I didn't understand why the guys hated me, but I guessed that the women didn't like Khan choosing me to be the mother of his "heir." I kind of saw where they were coming from, but to me, it was still rather silly (and a bit scary).

Still, their hostility didn't stop me from trying to figure out two things: how to protect myself and my boy, and what in the universe I was going to name him. Obviously there was no way I was going to let Khan have total control of my son, and one surefire way of getting the upper hand was choosing a name for the baby. Names, after all, had power behind them, and that was one bit of power I fully intended to deprive Khan of.

Since I had several months to decide on a name, I decided to try and focus on something else –namely taking advantage of being Khan's new favorite.

As soon as he found out the baby was a boy, Khan decided to make things a little more comfortable for me. I was given a larger set of quarters, with the rules placed on my new replicator very much relaxed. I was allowed to have whatever I wanted to eat, no matter how strange, and my data pad was loaded with much more interesting and informative things for me to read and go through.

That was how I was able to link up with the information center of the ship.

I'd learned in the Academy that each ship had a huge amount of data stored in its systems –as long as the information was public knowledge, it was in the ship's system, and accessible anytime, anywhere. Thanks to Starfleet protocol, and to my being part of Starfleet, I could get access to a few things that the members of Khan's crew couldn't.

Using the pass code that I had been assigned aboard the _Enterprise_, I used a few computer tips that had been taught to me at the Academy, and by Uhura. Those little side lessons allowed me to slip quietly by the modern version of firewalls, my mind focused on finding a layout of the interior of the ship.

While I had the map up, I studied it intensely and used my pen and journal (both of which I'd managed to slip past my guards) to sketch them out. It took hours, but then, I had the time –I tended to wake early, so I had plenty of time to draw before my appointment with the good Doctor. My afternoons weren't my own, but after my mandatory dinner with Khan, I had some private time before bed to continue my efforts.

And since I knew that they were probably keeping tabs on who accessed what information on the ship, I closed out of the file and erased much of my trail whenever possible.

As my pregnancy progressed, Khan decided to cut back on my lessons with him, so I had more time to myself before dinner –and as of this particular day, I had managed to get a majority of the drawings done, but there were a few more details that had to be worked on.

So far, I was starting to get a grasp as to the layout of the ship, and several plans of escape were forming in my head. Any attempt I made at getting out of here was bound to be nearly impossible, but I very much hoped that, with a great deal of careful planning, it could happen.

Instinctively, I knew that no one dared harm me while I was pregnant. The crew feared and respected Khan far too much to go against him, and since I was part of his grand view of the future for his people, they knew that if anything happened to me, Khan wouldn't hesitate to kill them.

That wouldn't, however, prevent them from turning me in if they caught me -and I hated to think about the tortures that Khan might bestow upon me after I delivered the baby.

Not that I intended to be on Khan's vessel to deliver my son. Once I gave birth, I knew that I would lose any chance of being a major factor and presence in my baby's life, and there was no way I was going to let Khan be the primary influence on my son.

Taking a deep breath, I turned my attention back towards my drawings. Time was running out.

* * *

Miranda knew that Khan's latest acquisition had been snooping. She knew that the woman had accessed the ship's computer, and had chosen a specific file, one that was an obvious indication that she meant to escape.

According to protocol, she should have mentioned this immediately to her uncle, who would have taken it directly to the Commander. After that, it was out of Miranda's hands, until Khan decided whether to reward her, or punish her for causing trouble for his chosen mate.

But as things stood, Miranda didn't like having the Drake woman aboard –not only was she not one of them, she had been educated at that Academy that the current inhabitants of Earth thought so highly of. When had Earth decided to become a member of a soppy committee of planets? If they had stayed strong, they would most likely be a great power in this part of the galaxy, not a planet that answered to the leaders of other worlds when they did something that displeased the other planets.

Instead, Earth had capitulated and decided to go for peace, rather than power. The entire planet was one big happy place, where everyone had everything they could want -poverty was gone, which meant that the power structure had been nearly obliterated. So far as Miranda could tell, the only ones who had any real kind of authority were the ones in Starfleet, which was a mixture of defense, peacekeeping, exploration, and aid to the planets in the Federation.

She nearly gagged at the thought of how happy a place Earth was now. Give her a good fight any day! Oh, she had no doubt that Starfleet had their own mix-ups with hostile races, but those were held in the coldness of space. For her, the only good kind of fight was on a planet, where she could meet up with the enemy and put them down with her own mind and honed skills. _That_ was how a battle was supposed to be!

Sniffing disdainfully, she isolated the incident and transferred it to her specific data pad, making her the sole person responsible for dealing with it. Now that it was in her hands, she had a choice to make: to report it, or not?

If she did, Khan might not be happy with her –and if there was one thing a person did not do, it was make him unhappy. This woman, Ria, meant a great deal to him and his plans for their future, and now that she was carrying his son, that would only make things worse for anyone who dared bring charges against her.

But if she didn't, and was found out for not telling, she'd be in trouble. Keeping things hidden from the Commander was never a good idea, unless you were willing and able to come up with a good explanation for why you did it –and even then, there was no guarantee that Khan would forgive you. She had seen people tortured and killed for being secretive.

Damn it, she hated being in a tough spot like this. She wanted the girl off this ship as much as anyone else did, if only because it was turning Khan soft. No one was stupid enough to suggest that they try and invade Earth, to try and reclaim what they'd lost, but nobody wanted to sink into weakness, either.

Unfortunately, this was an era of peace, with wars few and far-between. Logically, they needed to survive in this new universe that they'd woken up in, but old habits died hard, especially when they'd been encoded in your DNA. They had been created to fight, but now that they couldn't, they had to find another outlet for their energy; this happened to include accepting Khan's plans, which included this Adrianna Drake and the child she carried. And Miranda did want to survive.

So: to tell on the girl, or not?

* * *

It had taken a great deal of thought, but in the end, she decided that this might be a situation that required more than just her brain. In fact, if she played this just right, things might change for the better.

In the section designated for her group of engineers and those under her command, Miranda looked at the four people she trusted most.

Her second-in-command, Ferguson, sat to her left, glaring at the table before him. Tall, broad-shouldered, muscled, and bald, one would think he'd be better at security, or anything that required a heavy hand with a weapon. But appearances were deceiving; Ferguson was not only brawn, but his brains were first-rate. In a tense situation, Miranda could count on him to fire a weapon with one hand, while trying to stabilize the ship's core with the other.

Morris was to Ferguson's left, and the other man's opposite. He had a head of flaming red hair that stood out like a target in a fight, but he was thin enough to slip through a crowd unnoticed. Miranda had asked him to get rid of his wild locks, but he rather liked them, if only because there were four women who were chasing after him because of them. Sometimes, his sense of humor was the only things to lighten up her spirits when she badly needed it.

The dark-skinned beside Morris sat back in his chair, arms crossed as he turned his thoughts over in his head. Green was Miranda's 'thinker;' she knew she could count on him to silently consider all possibilities quickly, and give her any and all options she might find useful when asked.

Carlson was the nondescript one in the group, and the man she dubbed her 'spy.' His pale brown hair, light eyes, and commonplace facial features meant that he didn't stand out in a crowd –people quickly forgot about him and anything they'd said in his presence as soon as they looked away from him.

All four had listened to what she'd discovered, and each had their own idea on the matter.

"I say we kill her, then tell the Commander we did it because she was making a break for it," Ferguson growled. "That'll take care of the whole thing."

Morris snorted. "Do _you_ want to be the one to tell Khan that you killed his unborn son? Because I wouldn't want to be on the same ship, much less the same room, when that happens."

Ferguson snarled and slammed his fist down on top of the table, creating a dent in the metal. "Damn it, I hate it when you're right. So what do we do? We can't do nothing."

Miranda looked over at Green. "What do you think? You have all the information; what do you suggest we do?"

Everyone turned to look at the silent man. Frowning slightly, Green leaned back in his chair. "You can't keep this quiet –or at least, not for long. Getting her into trouble will reflect badly on you. So rather than go against her, I think you should help her."

The others stared, wondering if he'd lost his mind. "_Help_ her?" Morris asked, red hair falling into his face as he jerked in his seat. "Are you nuts? Do you know what Khan will do if we help the woman carrying his baby _escape_?"

Ferguson looked trapped between liking the idea, and agreeing with Morris. "Well, we could always help her in secret. She's the one unpredictable factor in all this –Khan knows how the rest of us think, but this girl is not only from a different time than us, she's got that Starfleet training under her belt. Who knows what they've taught her while she was there?"

Miranda had to agree. "If we can give her just enough help to get her off the ship, that should do it. We all know that most of the crew doesn't want her here, though the baby would be a good addition to the crew –without a planet to settle on, we haven't got the place or resources to settle and produce a new generation of fighters."

Carlson looked at her with his nondescript eyes. "I've heard some of the crew refuse to have a half-breed as Khan's heir, either. Rather than have that poor kid's death on our hands, we should get both her and the babe out of here, together. A clean break is what I suggest. That way, the kid isn't here to serve as a reminder about his mother, which might cause some friction all over again."

The others slowly nodded their agreement. "So, how do we break this to her?" Miranda asked.

That was the question, wasn't it?

* * *

When I heard movement in the wall panels, I knew something was going on. There had never been any kind of noise coming from them before, so when I heard it, I searched for a weapon. Of course, since my rooms were kept mostly bare, I came up empty.

Sliding into a defensive position, I got ready, in case the intruder came out fighting. My slightly bulging stomach was going to make me a tad clumsy, but I was going to try my damn hardest to defend myself, and my baby.

I watched as a panel in the wall carefully pushed into the room by a pair of obviously female hands, which gently and quietly put it on the floor. A head of brown hair popped out, and as the woman looked up at me, I stood glaring back at her.

"No, don't scream," she whispered, grey eyes meeting mine. "My name is Miranda, and I'm here to help you."

She must have seen the doubt and fear on my face, because she very slowly crawled out to kneel on both knees. "Please, you must listen," she quietly pleaded. "If you scream, it'll mean my death. You have to know that. I'm alone and unarmed, see? I just want to help you get away from here."

"Why would you want to do that?" I demanded, keeping my voice quiet. "I know that you don't want me aboard, so why not just kill me and get it over with?"

"Because killing you gets those who did it executed," Miranda replied. "The last thing we want is to be tortured before being killed dishonorably at Khan's hands."

"But why help me? That's what I want to know."

She sighed. "Because most of us don't want you here, that's why. You don't belong with our people –you're too much like this peaceful modern world, and that just doesn't sit right with us." She paused. "There is also the matter of your baby."

My hand strayed to my belly as Miranda nodded. "Some will accept your child as Khan's heir and our future leader. But in all likelihood, that baby will cause a civil war between those who will accept him, and those who refuse to let a half-breed be our future."

Miranda saw the anger on my face, because she held up her hands in surrender. "That baby will only be half of our kind –we need someone strong to lead us, and there's no telling how your boy will turn out once he's older. He might be like you, or he might be like his father, but none of us will want someone weak to take Khan's place when the time comes.

"That's why I'm here: to get you away now, while you're still pregnant, so that you can take the baby with you and not have to worry about giving birth to it here. It'll save a lot of problems later, and it'll make sure you and your baby survive."

She had a good point, but I still wasn't sure about this. "What if Khan tries to find me again? He doesn't seem to be the kind of guy who would give up easily."

My question seemed to gain me a bit of approval and respect. "That's true, but the only reason we were able to take you in the first place was because of the element of surprise. Now that the _Enterprise_ –and, no doubt, Starfleet– know that we're out and about, they'll be on heightened alert and likely on the lookout for us. However much he might want you back, Khan wouldn't dare risk us in a fight he knew we couldn't win."

Though she made some good points, I still didn't trust this woman. It might be a trap, for all I knew, and the last thing I wanted was to give Khan a reason to restrain me even further.

"Here," she said, slowly reaching for her belt and removing a device smaller than the palm of my hand. "I'll give you three days to think about this. Use this to contact me when you've made your decision –it's untraceable, so no one will know we're talking."

I took the device, and watched her crawl back into the wall, taking the panel with her. Once I was sure she was gone, I put the device into the little cubby-hole I'd made in the couch, putting it alongside my journal and pen, my mind spinning with what had just happened.

As much as I wanted to believe Miranda (if that was her actual name), I didn't want to risk the chance of getting caught in some kind of trap. My chances of escape were likely one in a million, and I did not want to blow that by putting my fate in the hands of some of Khan's crew.

However, Miranda had helped me already, in a way –she had shown me the crawl space in the wall, and where the entry panel was. If I could find that on the drawings I had looked at, it would be a mark in her favor.

But that would have to wait until after I took a bit of a rest. After that, I'd see what I could think up.

* * *

AN: Review? Thanks!


	6. Escape

Disclaimer: I own nothing _**Star Trek**_-related…though I might consider the idea of beaming Kirk, Spock, Khan, and the actors who play them to my house, once I manage to construct my own transporter. Until then, nothing is mine except original characters.

AN: Here's the next chapter. Enjoy, and please don't forget to review. Thank you!

**Chapter 6: Escape:**

As Khan began taking away my daily activities, I began to have more and more time on my hands.

And with more time on my hands, I was able to further my efforts in planning my escape.

My hand-drawn maps of the interior of the ship were finished, and I spent hours every day pouring over them, trying to plot a way out. Thanks to the mysterious Miranda, I had consulted my map, and found that the crawl space behind my wall led to a series of main tubes that ran throughout the ship. This included the shuttle bay, the transporters, and the escape pods.

That solved one of my problems. However, another one remained: how to escape while avoiding encounters with the crew.

The fact that Miranda had found me out had been terrifying. After she'd gone, I had spent days wondering if she was going to go to Khan and tell him that I was planning to escape. When no armed escort came to arrest me, I let myself relax just enough to let my brain go back to functioning properly.

I then realized that the only way Miranda could have discovered my efforts was because of my own stupidity –I had accessed the ship's database, and she had found out about it.

I honestly had not expected this. In my mind, I had thought Khan's people to be even further behind in learning modern technology than I was. I had been out in the world longer, after all, and even though I was no computer genius, I _had_ been taught by Starfleet educators on how to use the ship's computers.

My arrogance was, in the end, my undoing –I should have known that, with their superior brains, Khan's people would have been able to absorb things a lot faster than I ever could. No wonder Miranda had been able to follow my computer trail and find out what I'd been up to.

Before that encounter with Miranda, I had thought about getting access to the crew's work schedules –that obviously wasn't possible now. I might try and conceal my trail again, but Miranda was probably keeping a close eye on the computer systems.

No, I had to think of another way to get free. It would take time, and with a baby growing inside me, that was one thing I didn't have.

* * *

Weeks passed, and still, nothing came to me. As my pregnancy began to become more noticeable, I decided to act and made a choice: I needed to get away, before I was too far along. I had to escape while it was still safe for me to fight and not risk hurting the baby.

Retrieving the communication device Miranda had given me, I flipped it open –then hesitated.

What would happen after I contacted her? Would I be put into cuffs mere minutes after calling? The thought of what Khan might do to traitors made me shudder in horror.

But what choice did I have? I couldn't stay here; it would slowly kill me inside to be part of this group of killers and soldiers.

Taking a deep breath, I pressed the call button.

* * *

"You've done the right thing, Ria," Miranda softly told me. "I know you think that I'll turn you over to Khan, but I won't. I just want you off this ship. If you leave, you show Khan that you don't want to be here, and he'll learn to hate you, which is what we want."

I stared at her. "Why would we want him to hate me?" I asked doubtfully. "It seems like getting on his bad side would be a very stupid idea."

Miranda shook her head. "Ever since the day Khan told us about you, many of the crewmembers believe that you're making him weak. We can't afford that. The general consensus is that you, and your child, have to be eliminated, so that Khan will turn back to the strong, focused man he was. Without you, he'd choose another woman, one of his own to help lead us to our future.

"However, some of us feel that if you're killed, Khan's anger will be focused on us. So, rather than have him turn on his own people, we think you should escape. Once you're gone, he'll come to his senses, and things will turn out for the best."

I looked at my hands, which were folded in my lap. "So, what happens? I can't go out my door, that's for sure. I'd thought about the tubes that run through the ship, but the problem is that I never know if I'm going to run into someone in there. What does that leave me?"

Miranda looked at me as though I were the biggest idiot in the galaxy. "With me on your side, and my team acting on my orders, you've got the entire ship at your disposal. We've already considered the various means to get you out, and decided on a little of everything."

"Everything?" I asked, confused.

She nodded. "Transporters, escape pods, anything else we want. I'm head of engineering, and I not only have access to the ship's computer, I've also got a select group of those I can trust with anything and everything."

Well, that was helpful. "So, what's the plan? I assume you've got one, because I don't."

Sure enough, a grin spread across Miranda's face. "First, you'll need to make a recording for Khan, telling him that you're leaving and that if he comes after you, he'll regret it. He needs to know that you'll never let him have your baby, and that you'd rather risk dying in space than turn the child over to his care. He has to know that you hate him more than anything and would rather die than be with him."

"Will he buy that?" I asked, doubtfully. "I mean, would that really stop him from coming after me, once he knows I'm gone?"

"It probably won't stop him, no," Miranda confirmed, "but it'll at least make him pause and think, which will only buy you time. Once the seed of doubt is planted, it only needs a bit of encouragement to grow. The rest of the crew will simply nurse his anger towards you, even though it'll take time to get him to put all thoughts of you aside."

Khan didn't seem like the type to give up easily, but with his entire crew working towards the same end, I was pretty sure he would do just as Miranda said. It would only take time for Khan to hate me and decide to make another woman his "right hand."

"After I record the message, then what?"

"We'll beam you to an area near the escape pods, put you in a death-like coma, then set you on a course for Federation space. That way, you won't use much oxygen, and the basic life scans won't detect you."

Her blunt and quick description of the plan took me aback. I knew there would have to be a hell of a lot more to it than what she'd just said, but once I thought about it a little bit, it did look promising. Alone, I'd have never been able to get any of this planned, much less carry it out.

Of course, I didn't fully trust her. That's why I had one request –and it was probably something she expected. "I would like a weapon, in case I end up somewhere that I need to defend myself."

Miranda gave me a look that was half annoyance, half good humor. "I thought you might ask that –and it is a very reasonable request. Actually, it's one that we would be willing to grant."

I stared at her in surprise as she continued. "I will put together a pack of basic supplies, in case your escape pod accidentally crash-lands on a planet, and you need to survive. I'm going to switch off the distress signal, but you can turn it back on once you're safely away and the coma wears off."

She gave me a steady look, grey eyes focused on my face as she studied me. "Any questions?" she asked.

Actually, I did have one. "How are we going to pull this off behind Khan's back? There must be people who will be watching the computer systems –they'll see that the transporters will be activated, and others will notice you programming the escape pod. Not to mention how you're going to get a sedative for me from sickbay, or the fact that the people at the helm will detect the pod leaving and traveling through space."

Respect glinted in grey orbs. "I know people," she said. "I'll make sure to have one of them at the transporters, and have one of them make a drug for you –he used to do that in the old days, before we woke up here. My own engineers will work on the escape pod –they will make it look as though a computer malfunction released it, and they'll make sure that the people at the sensors won't see or detect you inside it.

"We'll also make sure to leave a subtle trail back to your data pad, to make it look like you managed to pull the whole think off on your own. That way, you get all the credit for the escape and Khan won't go looking for traitors amongst the crew."

That sounded good to me. "Do you know where I'll end up?"

She shrugged. "We'll set a course in the pod for Federation space, maybe even for Earth. Once you're awake, you can figure it out from there."

A knowing look crept onto her face. "If you're thinking of heading for the _Enterprise_, they're a good distance away. But I can have the distress signal directed at them when it's back online, so that they're the ones who pick you up. I think you'll like that."

Yes, I very much would, and told her so. "I just wish I knew how to thank you for all this," I said, hinting slightly. "You must want something in return for all your help."

Miranda only shook her head. "As long as you get away from here, that's all the thanks I need. No offense; you seem like a nice person, but niceties aren't what we need. We need you gone, and if we can succeed in doing that, we'll be even all around."

"Fair enough," I said with a nod. "Okay, let's get to work, then."

* * *

As it turned out, getting everything ready took quite a bit longer than I expected.

It didn't have to do with the technological part -Miranda's people were wizards at absorbing new technology, and they had most of that aspect of my escape done within a couple days. A false trail back to my data pad had been created and hidden within the ship's computer system, where only Miranda's people could find and activate it.

Meanwhile, the roster for the transporters was going to be adjusted by Miranda herself, to make sure one of her people was manning it on the day that I made my break for it. Another one of Miranda's friends had already concocted the sedative that would be used on me, one that was effective, but still safe for the baby, and would wear off in a few days. As for the bridge: by actual chance, some of Miranda's people were going to be on duty at the sensors over the next week or two, so there was a bit of extra relief for us.

Those, however, had been the easier parts of the plan. The main element, the escape pod itself, was another story altogether.

Hotwiring the thing was going to be a touch more complicated than Miranda had predicted. It was a rather complicated piece of machinery, so they had to carefully look over the blueprints of the original machine, then discuss how the necessary adjustments could be made, before actually doing them. They also had to make sure that the pod's engine signature was hidden, so that it couldn't be tracked.

In the end, they didn't get to work on the pod itself until four days after my chat with Miranda, and after _that_ came the tricky part: working on the damned thing in secret.

To keep from getting caught, Miranda and her people had to wait until "lights out," when most of the crew was asleep, and only the most basic skeleton crew was kept on watch. Even though they could work twice as efficiently as the normal human being, getting around not only the pod's systems, but also the starship's, was difficult and time-consuming.

Thanks to nightly visits from Miranda, I was kept up-to-date. As things progressed, she began calculating when I would leave, and about a week after I'd first heard her idea, she told me that within the next seven to ten days, things would be ready.

Needless to say, I found it very frustrating to pace around my rooms and wait as they worked, but what could I do? It was quite literally rocket and computer science that they were doing, as well as a bit of modern hot-wiring, none of which were that easy to do in the first place.

While Miranda and her people worked on their end of the bargain, I had to pretend nothing was wrong, and go about my days as usual. I went to sickbay for my checkups, which were becoming more frequent the further along in my pregnancy I got, and spent the rest of my day in my quarters, with only a brief hour or so in the training area for a bit of exercise as my taste of freedom for the day.

That exercise session was a new idea of Doctor Richards's, and I welcomed the distraction it provided. I was allowed to take a nice long walk around the room, perform a few yoga-like stretches, and some breathing exercises, to try and maintain an air of calm, even though I was nervous wreck on the inside.

A new and rather disturbing addition to my day was that I was now forced to spend another hour or two every evening with Khan. This extra time only annoyed me further, particularly because it was during this time that Khan spent time telling me how the baby was going to be raised, as well as what part he had in store for me after he was born.

The more I heard about my son's possible future under Khan, the more I began to silently pray for Miranda to hurry. I did _not_ want my son learning to fight and kill people before he was ten-years-old, nor did I want him to sit and listen to battle tactics, war history, and how it was best that he keep a firm, unyielding grip on those he ruled over.

In a small twist, Khan also wanted me to make sure that, "The boy grows up with an education in diplomacy, as well as a grasp on how to interact well with other races, so that he can get what he wants and needs, without alarming those he encounters."

So, he wanted a sociopath who knew not only how to talk others into giving him what he wanted, but also how to strangle it out of those who opposed him. Lovely.

It was thanks to Khan's descriptions that I was able to let feelings of anger, hatred, fear, and determination boil up inside me. I was able to pour all of those negative emotions into the video recording that Miranda told me to make, and if Khan didn't believe for one second that I would rather face the dangers of space than be with him, he was an idiot.

Then, finally, just as I was about to punch a hole in the wall in frustration, Miranda came to give me the news I'd been hoping for: it was time for me to go.

* * *

Miranda was quite proud of what she and her people had accomplished. After weeks of hard work, things were firmly in place, and it was finally time to carry it all out.

At the designated time, Morris, who had been set up in the transporter room, beamed the girl strait to the area where the specialized escape pod was situated. Green was up on the bridge, keeping one eye on Khan and another eye on the sensors, ready to lead everyone off their trail if something unexpected popped up.

Focused on the most challenging parts of all this was Carlson, who sat at a computer console in Engineering, waiting to activate the false computer trail they had concocted, which would lead everyone to Miss Drake's data pad. He would also work to hide the fact that the transporters had been activated, and make sure that it looked as though the pod had malfunctioned and activated on its own.

Ferguson, meanwhile, stood guard in the hallway, keeping an eye out for anyone who might accidentally stumble upon them. Miranda had specifically chosen this area, as it was one of the least active parts of the ship –other than the escape pods, this particular location was void of any systems that Khan and the crew deemed important. Since it was viewed as insignificant, few wandered here, except to get from one area to another –and given that it was near midnight, few would be awake.

Although Miranda would have liked Ferguson in Engineering, his muscled form would serve them better here –and if necessary, his brain would be able to help with any technical emergencies that might pop up.

Once the teleportation was complete, Miranda indicated the need for quiet, and gently grabbed Miss Drake by the arm, leading her to the escape pod. The pod was large enough for at least four or five people to sit comfortably, with a bit of floor space to move about. Inside lay a bed that had been folded out from the wall, which Miranda had made up for Ria to lie comfortably on.

Secured to the wall beside the bed was a small container. This was filled with emergency rations, a phaser, a knife, some clothing, and an emergency communication device. It wasn't much, but if she landed on a planet, it would hopefully be enough to allow her to survive for a week or so, until help arrived.

Looking at Ria, Miranda saw that she had a paper book of some kind under her arm, which she quickly put in her container of supplies. She had no idea where it had come from or why the book seemed to mean so much, but at least the paper would come in handy, if she had to light a fire.

Nodding towards the bed, Miranda gently urged Ria to lie down, and showed her the hypo-spray with the sedative. Ria looked at her with a bit of doubt, but allowed the drug to be administered. In seconds, she was out, and after Miranda secured her to the bed, she sealed the pod.

"Good luck," she whispered before starting the launch sequence.

* * *

"Sir, an escape pod has just launched from the ship," Green said suddenly, effectively getting Khan's attention. "It looks like a malfunction of some kind."

That was nothing new. With the ship still in a constant state of repair after it was decommissioned, and with all sorts of parts missing, things were breaking or malfunctioning constantly. However, it had been a while since this big had happened.

"Should we try and retrieve it, sir?" Green asked, eyes focused on the console in front of him, though his ears were ready to receive Khan's orders.

"Life signs?" Khan demanded, sitting up in his command chair. "Check and see if all crew members are accounted for."

Green's fingers flew over the console. "No life signs; all crew members accounted for."

Khan thought for a moment. "It is only one pod, and we have more than enough to hold all of us in an emergency. If this one malfunctioned, it might be defective, and if we should have to evacuate, I won't put any of our people at risk by forcing them to use it. Let it go."

Green nodded. "Yes, sir."

The rest of his watch passed quietly. Khan managed to force himself through several reports he'd been given through the day, and considered it a triumph that he hadn't broken the data pad with his boredom and frustration at the tediousness of it all.

When the computer chimed the end of his shift to him, it came as an immense relief. "I'm releasing the bridge to Isaacs," he declared, pressing a button on his console.

A moment later, his chief engineer arrived, still yawning from his interrupted sleep. "Have a good rest, sir," he said respectfully as Khan departed the bridge.

Back in his own quarters, Khan prepared himself for a long rest. He was just settling into his bed when his console blinked on.

The message that played there caused him to let out such a furious roar that it was heard several floors away.

* * *

AN: So, what will happen to Ria now? Guess everyone will have to wait until next time! Please be kind and review. Thanks!


	7. Lost & Found

Disclaimer: I own nothing _**Star Trek**_-related…though I might consider the idea of beaming Kirk, Spock, Khan, and the actors who play them to my house, once I manage to construct my own transporter. Until then, nothing is mine except original characters.

AN: At last: familiar, friendly faces that everyone's probably been missing for a while. Enjoy, and please don't forget to review. Thanks!

**Chapter 7: Lost & Found:**

"How could this have happened?" Khan demanded, his voice a quiet hiss as he interrogated his crew. "I thought we had every security measure in place. How did she escape?"

For a moment, there was complete silence as they tried to gather their thoughts. Everyone knew Khan expected an answer and an explanation, but if it wasn't good enough, someone was going to die.

As things stood, everyone already knew that Adrianna Drake had escaped on the missing escape pod. Khan himself had allowed it to go, but only because he had been assured that it was empty. If the tech at the sensors had been mistaken…

But he had checked the ship's logs, and there had truly been no sign of life aboard the pod. The fault was not Green's, so the man had been spared any punishment, as had the rest of the crew on the bridge. However, Khan did have a few questions for those in charge of the ship's computer security.

"I don't know how it happened, sir," Miranda Isaacs said, her face a mask of emotions ranging from fear to frustration and confusion. "We've had eyes on the systems at all hours. The girl must have had some impressive skills to slip past our protections."

Behind her, several of her people were doing a diagnostic of the ship's systems. All of them looked understandably nervous and terrified as they worked. They'd been at it for hours, ever since Khan had woken everyone up and begun interrogating them about Ria's escape.

Engineering had been both the first and the final stop on his list. He had first ordered them to look and see if anything suspicious could be found in the computer systems. They were to alert him the moment they discovered something.

Once they were busy, Khan had returned to his quarters, where he began calling each crew member to him and questioning them closely. Unfortunately, this had produced nothing useful –even her guards had seen nothing strange during their watches. With nothing, Khan had returned to Engineering to see how the search progressed.

"Sir, I found something," Carlson said, getting everyone's attention. Khan rushed to the computer console to look. "It appears that someone has been slipping past our security protocols to access the main computer systems."

Khan's eyes never left the screen. "Can you determine who?" He could guess, but he wanted to be sure. "Is there a trail to follow?"

"Running a diagnostic now," Carlson replied, fingers flying as he pressed a dozen different icons. "It looks like it goes to Miss Drake's quarters."

A cool calm settled in Khan's stomach. "She must have accessed it using the computer pad provided to her. But how?"

Joining him, Miranda looked unhappy as well. "She must be better with technology than we thought. She _did_ go to that Academy and serve aboard one of their ships; they must have taught her more than she let on."

Was it possible? Had Ria actually been far more thoroughly educated than he'd thought? He had assumed that, because she was from further in the past than him, she had been far more primitive. Could she have learned such advanced skills from the Academy, or even aboard Kirk's vessel?

'_Had she been deceiving me this whole time_?'

It wasn't an idea that Khan particularly liked. He hated being made a fool of, especially in front of his crew, and yet, that's exactly what had happened. Just the thought of it made his anger burn. Ria had played him for an idiot, and now his people would begin to doubt him. He could not afford that. He had to take the matter in hand, and show them he was still strong.

And in order to do that, he needed to find Ria and punish her for her actions.

"Contact the bridge," he ordered. "I want them to trace the pod's trajectory. We'll find it."

He turned towards Miranda. "Meanwhile, I want you to find out how she did any and all of this. Bring me a full report as soon as possible."

He barely acknowledged her salute as he left Engineering for his quarters.

* * *

Miranda put together a report, as requested. It listed the things that Miss Drake had supposedly done, and ideas on how she might have achieved them. Everything from accessing the computers to how she might have seized the pod was all downloaded into the pad in her hands. Now all she had to do was put it into Khan's.

As she made her way through the corridors, she couldn't help noticing how worried, afraid, and edgy everyone was. Whenever Khan was unhappy, he made damn sure that everyone else was, too. Wasn't there a saying of some kind, about misery loving company?

Khan, however, took it to extremes. If there was a way to remedy the problem, he'd set as many people as possible to fix it, as quickly as possible; if there wasn't, things tended to get very messy.

Miranda had to shudder at the memories that resurfaced. She'd seen the end results of Khan's temper –it ranged to rooms filled with broken furniture, to rooms spattered with the blood of those caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. She hadn't envied the ones assigned to clean up after any of those instances.

Her small group was no exception to the nervousness that flowed through the air. They were as anxious as the rest of the crew, and it showed on their faces as they tried to go about their business. Of course, because they had committed treason against their leader, they were fearful of being caught; but with the whole crew on edge, they were able to blend their worried faces in with the others without someone getting suspicious.

Mercifully, her people were holding it together rather well, all things considered. They had planned Ria's escape well, and had covered their tracks by making it look as though she had been far more clever and intelligent than she had appeared. Khan was buying the whole thing (at least for now), and he was so blinded by rage that he probably wouldn't see anything than the reports and theories that Miranda and her people put before him.

'_If his suspicions go up, we'll have to try and think of another plan to keep our lives_.' She'd have to get Green started on that ASAP, just in case.

Right now, though, she had a report to deliver.

* * *

The report in his hands, as well as the ones on his desk, told him much, but yet, not exactly what he wanted to know.

Oh, he know knew how Ria had managed to obtain all the information that she had, and still somehow managed to gain access to the escape pod without people noticing. She'd somehow slipped past the ship's security protocols using access codes from Starfleet, and used her know-how to do it undetected. She had also gotten access to the transporters, the ship's crew schedules, and used both those to slip past his people, primarily while they were asleep.

It was partly Khan's fault. He had ordered minimal crewmembers to be on duty at night, so that many could get a full night's rest, or a little time to relax. They had worked hard to put the ship back together, and had managed to obtain extra materials through the trade of their fighting skills to helpless worlds in exchange for supplies. The ship was nearly complete, thanks to their hard work.

'_But if the science teams had just done their work a little faster, we'd probably have a home now, and Ria would still be with us_!'

Well, that was a little unfair; even he had to admit that.

His scientists had spent the past several months looking for an ideal spot to settle upon, but not much had come up. Most of the worlds already had native inhabitants, or had been colonized by a Federation race. There had been a few moons that might have suited them, but the climate had been too harsh, or had pleasant enough atmospheric conditions only three months of the year. Or, of the ones that looked promising, there was a severe lack of the materials required to survive.

'_I can hardly blame them, though it would be easy to do so. They've been so busy and working so hard, I'm amazed that they haven't met themselves coming and going_.'

Still, someone should have noticed the unauthorized access to the ship's systems! That's what they were trained in, it's what they should have seen, and Khan did put a bit of blame on them for their failure. They had to be punished, which had to fit the crime.

But that left him at another conundrum. The trail to Ria's computer pad had been scrambled, which made it nearly impossible for them to pinpoint which times she access the central computer. This, of course, meant that Khan couldn't put the blame on a few particular individuals, and since punishing all of his engineers would be foolish, he would have to punish them all, and far more mercifully than this sort of situation normally called for.

With several problems before him, Khan decided to kill two birds with one stone: as they searched for where Ria might be, they would also look for a planet to call their home. There had to be at least one world out there that the Federation or its allies hadn't laid claim to, and as they searched for that, he would have sensors scanning for any sign of Ria's escape pod.

'_For as much as I want to find her, we do need to find a place to call our own. Our home planet must come first, but while we do that, I will assign one or two individuals to find her trail_.'

And once he found her, there would be many consequences for her actions.

* * *

As intended, I had no recollection of anything after getting that sleep drug pumped into my veins.

Technically, Dr. Thomas's serum should have made it more difficult for any kind of drug to work on me, but since I was a 'lesser version' of Khan's people, drugs still did what they were supposed to –it just took a more powerful version of them.

When I did manage to snap out of it, I was groggy, and it took a bit for me to gather my thoughts together. Once my body began to function as it should, I checked the computer and found that I'd been out for about three days. That very much explained my growling stomach, and why a trip to the bathroom was badly required.

After using the toilet and stretching out my stiff muscles, I searched through the kit that Miranda had left me. There was a replicator aboard the shuttle, but since I didn't know how long I'd be out here in space, I decided to keep my food intake to a minimum.

When I sat at the controls, I tried to recollect the training I'd had at the Academy. The helm here was more basic and smaller than the one I'd been trained on, but it worked in generally the same fashion. I was able to pull up where I was, and where Federation space might be, if I wasn't in it already.

With a quick search, I was relieved to find out that, yes, I was in Federation space, but a very good distance from Earth. Escape pods weren't meant to travel far, or very fast, and a quick calculation told me that it'd take months to get there. I had no idea how long the power cells on the pod would last, so I'd have to either choose between necessities if I wanted to get back to my home planet.

Another choice was that I could just land on a nearby inhabited world, but I didn't relish that idea, either. Who know how long I'd be there before another ship came by?

I did another check on the computer, and discovered that Miranda's people had in fact disabled the automatic distress call, which would have gotten the attention of every Federation ship in range. It would not only keep Khan from finding me, but every other ship, too. Damn it.

Even worse: with limited sensors, it was difficult to find out if any ships were close by. Damn it again.

"Okay, don't panic," I muttered, fingers flying across the panels. "Think logically, like Spock."

I knew that Khan would keep to the far limits of Federation space; he didn't want to get caught, and it was likely that he'd find a planet to settle on there. If I headed in the opposite direction, I'd probably come across some starship that was friendly to the Federation, if not a Federation ship itself.

Punching in a request into the computer, I managed to find the coordinates for a space station. It wasn't even remotely close to where I was, but if I put myself back into a deep sleep, I might be able to pour the power from life-support into the engines to get me there faster –or at least alive and in one piece.

Heading to the medical supplies, I found a container of high-dose tranquilizers. Perfect.

With a plan in place, I punched the coordinates for the space station into the computer. As the pod began to head into warp one, I lowered the life-support levels and settled down on the bunk bed I'd been on before.

I sighed. '_Well, here goes nothing_.'

Taking a deep breath, I used the hypo-spray and injected the tranquilizer into my system. Hopefully, when I came to, I'd be in safe hands.

* * *

"Sir, I'm picking up an escape pod," Sulu declared as he examined his console. "But I'm not picking up signs of a ship or debris of any kind."

Jim looked up from the report he was reading. "Onscreen. Uhura, hail them, see if they're okay."

She nodded and turned to her station. For a moment, there was silence on the bridge as Uhura hailed the pod and the crew waited for word. "No response, sir," she reported. "I'm not even getting the standard Starfleet distress call. Something must be wrong, if that's down."

"Life signs?" Jim asked.

"Very faint," Sulu replied. "Only one."

"Mr. Sulu, put a tractor beam on the pod and haul it into the shuttle bay," Jim ordered as his fingers flew across the console of his chair. "Bones, there's an escape pod coming in. I need you and a medical team to head down there, in case there are some severe injuries."

"Got it," the doctor replied through the communications systems.

Looking over his shoulder, Jim looked at his second-in-command. "Mr. Spock, take a security team there as well. We don't know who's in that pod, and I'd rather not have any unpleasant surprises."

"Aye, sir," Spock replied, turning to obey.

Minutes later, a group of security guards and medical personnel stood in front of the retrieved pod. Scans still indicated that there was only one person aboard, but the guards still had their phasers out, as a precaution.

Taking the initiative, Spock had his weapon in hand when he reached up to enter his security code to unseal the door. When the doors depressurized and no one came out or called for help, he raised his weapon and went inside. The sight before him was a surprise, even to him.

* * *

"It's _who_?" Jim asked, staring at his second-in-command and wondering if he'd heard right.

"It is Ensign Adrianna Drake," Spock repeated, calm as ever.

It took a minute for that to sink in. Once it did, Jim's brain began working again. "What's her condition? Is she alright?"

"She appears to be in good health, though Dr. McCoy is examining her," Spock replied. "It appears she injected herself with a powerful sedative, which allowed her to divert power from life-support to the engines."

"Smart girl," Jim muttered. "Okay, I want a full report as soon as possible, and I want to know the minute she wakes up and can be asked questions."

"Dr. McCoy has declared that he has managed to off-set the sedative, but it will still take some time for it to be purged from her system," Spock reported immediately, somewhat to Jim's irritation and amusement. "She will need to rest for the next few days, but once she is recovered, the doctor will contact us."

Out of the corner of his eye, Jim spotted Uhura listening in as she tried to look busy. "Well, I'm sure Ria will welcome some visitors, as soon as she's up for them. I'll visit her tomorrow, if Bones will allow it."

Uhura smiled and turned back to focus on her work as Spock nodded his agreement. "I will inform the doctor of your intentions, sir."

Sitting back in his chair, Jim felt a weight lift off his shoulders. For months they had been simultaneously doing their duty to Starfleet and completing missions, all while searching for any sign of Khan and Ria. Jim would rather have devoted all their time to finding his lost crewmember –however, he and his crew had sworn an oath to Starfleet, and wherever they were ordered to go, they went. That didn't stop him from feeling guilty, however.

Try as he might, Jim could not convince Starfleet to allow him to pursue Khan –Starfleet Command had felt that it would make the mission too personal for Jim's crew, and refused his request.

Instead, they had sent out what ships it could spare, but given that Khan and his people had a derelict ship, the Admirals all felt that the vessel would break apart before they got too far into space.

But as the weeks dragged into months, Starfleet Command was beginning to think that their choice was the wrong one. Only one of their ships had seen or heard anything about the escaped prisoners: a scan of a planet on the edge of Federation territory had shown signatures of Federation weaponry, even though their technology wasn't that advanced. It was clear that Khan's people had been there, and used Starfleet weapons to assist them during a rough period. The Federation starship that had scanned the planet had found no trace of remaining weapons, which was a mercy –Jim hated to think how they would have influenced that culture, if anything had been left behind.

However, besides that one clue, nothing could be found. A few ships had found faint warp trails, but they were too old and faded to track to their source. It was always back to square one, but Starfleet still refused to let the _Enterprise_ lead the search. Instead, they had sent Jim and his crew on missions all across space, trying to keep them busy while preventing them from conducting their own search for Khan and Ria.

But now Ria was here, safe and sound. Jim had to wonder if Khan had let her go, or if she had escaped. Either way, he was going to visit his friend, and see if she could provide any answers.

The beep of his personal communications link brought him back to the present. "Yes?"

"Jim, you'd better get down here," Bones said, his voice serious.

"Mr. Spock, you have the bridge," Jim said as he rose from his chair.

Uhura stopped him at the lift. "Sir, I'd like to accompany you."

Jim nodded, and the two of them headed to sickbay, where they were greeted by a obviously concerned Bones. "What's going on? Is something wrong with Ria?"

The doctor sighed and took the two of them into his office, shutting the door behind him. "Normally, I wouldn't blurt out patient conditions, but considering that this might put us in a heap of trouble, I think you need to know."

"Know what?" Uhura demanded. "Is she sick or dying?"

"No," Bones sighed, running a hand through his hair. "As wrong as it would be for me to say it, if she were, it might make things easier."

Since Uhura looked as though she were going to take a swing, Jim stepped between her and the physician. "So what's the matter?"

Bones took a deep breath. "Ria is pregnant."

All Jim could do was stand there and stare at him. "She's _what_?" he asked, wondering for the second time today if he'd heard right.

Sighing, Bones brought out a data pad and pulled up his file on Ria. "She's pregnant. I'd guess a couple months, thought it's hard to tell without a more thorough scan. For that, I'd need Ria's consent, but from what information I've got, it looks like three months; two and a half, at least."

He shook his head. "And with all the sedative I've found in her system, it's a miracle that she hasn't lost the poor thing. She downed enough to kill an elephant."

"But who's the father?" Uhura demanded, fists clenching at her sides. "I'd put bets on Khan, and knowing the man he is, she probably didn't do this willingly."

"Okay, let's calm down," Jim said, holding up his hands to halt any further arguments. "As soon as she's conscious, we'll talk to Ria about it. For now, I want this kept _quiet_. Don't tell anyone about this until we have all the facts and I make a report to Starfleet Command."

Both crewmembers nodded solemnly. For Ria's sake they'd keep quiet. In the meantime, Jim would have to find a way to protect Ria from the inquiries that were bound to start once word got out about this.

* * *

AN: Review?


	8. Home Again

Disclaimer: I own nothing _**Star Trek**_-related…though I might consider the idea of beaming Kirk, Spock, Khan, and the actors who play them to my house, once I manage to construct my own transporter. Until then, nothing is mine except original characters.

AN: Just so everyone knows: this story is almost over. There will then be either a long one-shot, or a short sequel to this; I haven't decided yet. After that, I might head back and do another story for my Captain America/Avengers series, but it kind of depends, since I've already messed with the characters in that category already. We'll see.

Anyway, enjoy the chapter, and please don't forget to review! Thanks!

**Chapter 8: Home Again:**

I woke to the familiar sounds of a sickbay. The sterile air filled my nose, and I could hear nurses muttering and moving around as they worked.

For a moment, I tensed, wondering if Khan had found me and brought me back to his ship. I listened carefully for the impassive voices of my abductor and Dr. Thomas, but the sounds that reached my ears were warm, friendly tones using Federation and Starfleet terminology. That meant I was on a Federation ship!

Sighing in relief, I allowed myself to relax a bit. If I was on a Starfleet vessel, that hopefully meant I'd find a way back to the _Enterprise_!

"Ria?" a familiar voice whispered. "Ria, can you hear me?" Funny, it sounded like…

I cracked an eye open, and saw Bones' hazel-green ones looking down at me. When he saw my response, he gave me one of his lop-sided smiles. "That a girl! Welcome home. We've missed you."

I managed to find the energy to smile. "Thanks," I whispered, a sense of relief settling in. At least I wouldn't have to spend weeks or months finding a way back to my friends!

A nurse came up with a tray of soft foods and a kind smile. "A little something so that you can get your energy back," she said before heading off again.

My stomach gave a loud growl, making me wonder how long I'd been out. When I voiced my question to Bones, he shook his head. "I'm guessing seven days, at most." He paused a moment to give me a serious look. "What _possessed_ you to take that much sedative?"

"I didn't have a choice," I retorted. But since I'd been unconscious for so long, it came out in a much softer voice than intended. Clearing my throat, I opened my mouth, but shut it when I saw Bones was silently laughing at me. "You're an ass."

He chuckled and patted my arm. "Now, now; save those insults for another time. You're going to have visitors in a little bit, so save your strength."

Visitors? Was he serious? I probably looked liked I felt (which was hell), and I was going to get visitors? What was he thinking?

"Can I at least get a shower first?" I asked, one hand going to my face. There was probably nothing there, but you can't blame a girl for being worried.

Bones chuckled and motioned a nurse over. "Please help Ensign Drake to the showers."

In twenty minutes, I was in a clean hospital gown, and was just settling into a comfy sickbay bed when a group of officers flooded into the room. Looking up in surprise, I barely had enough time to brace myself before Carol tackled me in a hug.

"I'm so glad to see you," she said, right as Uhura came and joined in the hug.

"Same here," Uhura muttered, giving me a squeeze and taking a step back. "You had us scared to death!"

"Okay, ladies, back up," Jim said as Carol did as he asked. "Now, these are for you, Ensign. I hope you realize how special you are, to receive a get-well gift from your Captain."

I took the offered flowers and grinned. "Believe me, sir, I do feel very special."

The others chuckled (with the exception of Spock, who stood stoically nearby), then presented me with their own gifts. By the time I was done, I had a nice stack on the table near my bed, and was nibbling on a treat from the small box of chocolates Uhura had given me.

Once everything settled down, Bones shooed the nurses out, and provided chairs for everyone. I could tell from their faces that they wanted a story and explanation, so I swallowed my mouthful of chocolate and leaned back onto my pile of pillows.

"Well, I guess I should start at the beginning, when Khan took me off the _Enterprise_," I muttered with a sigh.

For more than an hour, I talked and everyone listened. In more than one instance, the guys muttered swear words and got hostile looks on their faces, particularly Jim and Bones. Chekov muttered something in Russian occasionally, while Scotty swore under his breath in his charming Scottish accent. Spock was the only one to appear completely unfazed by what I was saying, though I could see his hands grow tense once in a while.

Carol looked trapped between wanting to hug and give sympathy, and wanting to talk about what terrible things the others wanted to do to Khan, once they got their hands on him.

As expected, Uhura looked like she wanted to take a swing at someone –I had the feeling that she and my other friends would be taking turns using the workout areas of the ship for a few hours, once I was done briefing them. It was almost funny, and if it weren't for the fact that just remembering what I'd gone through was starting to bring tears to my eyes, I would have laughed.

When I finished, the others were silent, all of them taking in what I'd told them. I, too, was quiet, as I waited for someone to react or say something. The person who ended up speaking was the last one I expected.

"You are sure that you wish to keep your offspring?" Spock asked, his intense Vulcan gaze on my face. "You would be within your right to decide otherwise."

I shook my head. "I want to keep him. It's not his fault that Khan's insane." Looking at Jim, I quietly asked, "That is, if I'm allowed to keep my son aboard, sir?"

Jim frowned and crossed his arms. "I don't see why not, though performing your duties and looking after an infant isn't going to be easy. We aren't necessarily a family ship –we're meant for deep-space exploration, and don't have the services you'll need."

"You'd have to set up your own child-care," Carol warned. "And remember, not everyone onboard is skilled with kids, so you should try and find people with patience and the skills to look after them."

Bones cleared his throat. "Actually, I'm more worried about whether or not Starfleet is going to let you keep the kid."

Everyone turned to look at him as my stomach dropped through the floor. "What do you mean?" I breathed, my hands going to my belly.

"Well, think about," Bones said, scowling in thought. "Khan was genetically created to be the perfect soldier. Now you're carrying his son. The boy will have only half of his dad's genetic material, but we still have no idea what Khan's fully capable of. The scientists at Starfleet are going to want to poke and prod at the boy until they fully understand what he is and what he can do."

"They won't touch him," I declared. "If they want to make a science experiment of anyone, they can take me instead. I've had a bunch of stuff pumped into me, so if they want to keep busy analyzing blood, they can take all the want of mine."

Reaching out, Bones took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "That may be the case," he warned. "But I have to let you know that, as a member of Starfleet, it's my job to report you and your experiences to the Medical Council."

Uhura glared at him. "You wouldn't really tell on Ria like that, would you?"

He sighed. "Normally, no, but considering the circumstances, I really don't have a choice. If I don't, it'll be someone else on my staff. At least with me, you'll have someone standing firmly in your corner if it comes to a fight."

"We're all in your corner," Carol firmly said, scowling at him. "Right now, though, you need to rest and get your strength back."

I actually laughed a little. "Actually, I really don't; I think I've slept enough for a month. What I'd like to do is get to work."

"I am afraid that could pose a problem," Spock interjected. "The crew knows that you have been Khan's prisoner for several months, and word is spreading that you have returned. Rumors and speculation have spread as well; many have sympathy for you, but others fear that you have been away too long and that he may have brainwashed you, or turned you against us."

Bones snorted. "Next thing you know, they'll be saying that she's going to murder us all in our beds."

One of Spock's eyebrows rose upwards. "Indeed, some are speculating that is what she intends to do. It would be wise, therefore, to secure Ensign Drake in her own quarters, until we have word from Starfleet Command on the matter."

Everyone looked ready to protest, but Jim stopped them. "Mr. Spock has a point. We can't risk anyone causing trouble for any reason. I'll contact Starfleet and see what they'd like to do about this."

"Go ahead," I agreed. "Just promise me that you won't let them turn my baby into a living science experiment."

Jim smiled. "I'll do everything I can."

* * *

After Jim's little chat with the higher-ups, it wasn't long before we got a new set of orders. We were to return to Earth, where I'd have to take part in a barrage of tests, then meet with the Admirals on the Council in order to find out what my fate was.

During the four-day journey to Earth, I was holed up in sickbay. Because there was a set of guards set up outside sickbay to keep me from leaving (a scene I was unhappily familiar with), I wasn't allowed to partake in any official Starfleet business, and no unauthorized visitors were allowed to come inside. I was visited constantly by my friends, but besides that, I was given little to do besides rest and sit around. In the end, Bones suggested that I write up a report on my experience on Khan's ship.

"You never know what kinds of information you might have inside that head of yours," he said, handing me a data pad. "Besides, it'll keep you out of my hair for a while."

Since I'd been plaguing him for things to do, I couldn't help but blush a bit as I went to sit down and get to work.

When we got to Earth, the _Enterprise_ docked at one of the large space stations orbiting the planet. Rather than risk having me as the center of unwanted attention, Jim quickly ordered one of the _Enterprise_ shuttles prepped for launch. Then, to my surprise, he also ordered Spock and Bones to accompany the two of us on the journey down.

Upon hearing this, Carol and Uhura had wanted to go, but Jim hadn't wanted to bring any "unnecessary personnel." Spock was to act as my security guard, while Bones was obviously my doctor. As my Captain, Jim was responsible for me, so he had to go –and as far as he was concerned, that was all that was required on this trip. My female friends hadn't been happy, but since Jim was doing this in his official role as Captain, they could hardly disobey and come anyway.

So, early the next morning, I put on my blue uniform, complete with my ensign insignia, and followed my senior officers out to the shuttle.

I'd like to say that the flight down to Earth was calm and quiet, but it was the complete opposite. In fact, the only quiet one was Spock, who looked as thoughtful and stoic as a statue as he guided the shuttle. Meanwhile, Bones kept trying to check my health and the baby's until I told him I was fine, and that if he didn't stop, I'd set Uhura on him. He rolled his eyes, but thankfully, did stop.

Jim was the only one trying to make things easier on me; from his own seat at the helm, he chatted about some of his pre-Starfleet adventures and the stupid stunts he'd done before finding his path. I found myself laughing for most of the flight, and was even a bit relaxed as we landed in a shuttle bay area near Starfleet Headquarters.

I was shocked and somewhat appalled to find a small group of security guards waiting as we exited the shuttle –there were six, and all of them looked even more serious than Spock, something I thought to be impossible.

"We're here to escort Ensign Drake to the Starfleet Medical Facility," one of the men said, stepping forward with a small data pad, which he offered to Jim. "Everything is in order."

Jim scanned through it quickly. When he finished, he looked up and put on his best Captain face. "As her commanding officer, I'd like to accompany her to the facility," he said, handing the pad back. "It doesn't say that she has to go alone."

The lead security officer nodded. "This way, sir," he said.

Bones reached out and squeezed my shoulder. "It'll be okay," he quietly assured me. "We'll see you soon." Spock merely gave me a nod, though I could swear that he looked a bit uneasy.

I took a deep breath and gave them both my best fake smile. "See you soon," I agreed before turning to follow the head guard.

* * *

Since I'd only just gotten away from the treatment of Dr. Richards on Khan's ship, that horrible experience was still fresh in my mind. In the back of my head were the faded memories of the gentleness that came with Earth's doctors and medical facilities, and those were nothing compared to the fresh ones I now unhappily carried.

Thankfully, the Starfleet doctors all knew what they were doing, and all of them had a better bedside manner than Dr. Richards. A few vials of blood were taken from my arm and my baby (painlessly, thank goodness), and I was forced to lie down and be scanned by a dozen machines or so, but nothing more strenuous than that. The doctors were all polite, and I was told about what they were going to do, right before they actually did it. I was even given a sedative when I began getting a bit too restless, which made things only slightly more bearable.

And while all this was being done, Jim stood behind a glass observation window, his face warring between frustration and amusement as I threw annoyed and mocking glances his way.

Finally, after a day of having my body, head, and blood examined, the doctors released me, much to my relief. I was thrilled that Jim was there to meet me, but his serious expression told me that my time here wasn't over yet.

"I'd love to take you back to the ship, but I'm only allowed to take you to the cafeteria for a quick bite to eat. Then I've got to escort you to the quarters they've assigned you," Jim said apologetically. "I hope that's okay."

"As long as I'm out of any type of sickbay, that's fine," I assured him. It was a brave front, however –the last thing I wanted was to be imprisoned in a set of quarters again, and from the look on his face, Jim understood that.

"It won't be for long," Jim said, putting a comforting hand on my shoulder. I hoped so.

We ate at the cafeteria, and after we finished, I was led to a nice, spacious set of rooms, far bigger than anything I'd had on the spaceships. In fact, they were the size of my apartment on Earth (which I very much hoped that Lydia was taking very good care of). It was a nice suite, but to my dismay, there was a set of guards standing outside, waiting for my arrival. It was too reminiscent of my situation with Khan, and I did _not_ appreciate that.

One of the men was the head guard from earlier. "Sir, I've been asked to deliver a message from the Admirals," he said to Jim. "You are to return at once to the _Enterprise_ with your other two crewmembers. Ensign Drake is to remain here until the Council has seen fit to release her back into your charge."

Jim clearly didn't like that, but orders were orders; he could hardly disobey. "Any idea how long this confinement of hers is supposed to last?" he asked, looking from one guard to the other.

The one in charge shook his head. "It'll take as long as it takes."

And that was that.

* * *

A week later, I was in front of the Starfleet Council. It was a horrible case of déjà vu, one that turned my stomach. My previous visit here had been because the Admirals had thought me worthy of being allowed to serve on the _Enterprise_ –now they would determine whether or not I was a threat to every living person onboard.

While my blood was being tested, I had been ordered to partake in a few hand-to-hand bouts with some of my former instructors. Many were surprised at the progress I had made in the months since I'd graduated –my time with Khan had apparently been well-spent. Now, because of Khan's teachings and my body being modified by his scientist/doctor, I was faster and stronger, which led me to win most of the matches I fought in.

One thing that surprised me was that I had almost tossed one of my opponents clear off the mat before I forced myself to maintain control of my new abilities. Khan had been much stronger than me, which explained how I hadn't realized until that moment that I really had physically changed. One of my opponents, a Vulcan, had commented on it, and since Vulcans were significantly stronger than normal humans, that said a lot.

Then came target practice. I again surprised everyone, this time with the accuracy of my aim –before, I could hit the center of the target about half the time; now it came closer to ninety percent. I couldn't tell if everyone was worried, or impressed.

In the end, I felt like a pet dog or bear, told to do tricks and sit still while they took blood. The physical bouts had lasted for two days; for the other five, I was told not to leave the building. I could eat in the cafeteria, read anything I wanted in my rooms, and walk the halls (with guards in tow, of course), but nothing else. I wanted to contact my friends, but I was forbidden from doing so, by order of the Council.

Now, here I was, waiting to hear about their decision. I could tell there was tension in the air, and a bit of discontentment. My slightly protruding belly was also a concern, since it tended to draw the eye of everyone around me. It was nerve-wracking, and it took a lot of restraint on my part to stay ramrod straight at attention as I waited to hear what they had to say.

Admiral Barnett, head of the Council, looked at me from the central seat. "Ensign Drake, I am afraid that you are a subject that has caused great division amongst the Council. Half believe you to be a danger to not only your fellow crewmates and Captain, but to the general public. The advancement of your abilities in battle is alarming, and the medical community is still pouring over your blood samples, trying to see if it is possible to replicate the serum that the escapee, Khan, used on you."

A female on the Council continued, "Your brain scans have also been the talk of the medical community. Many would like to study how it is some of your brain functions have improved, while other sections haven't. But since that would likely cause you permanent brain damage, I believe they will have to simply wait until nature takes its course."

Wow, there was a happy thought. Somehow, I kept my face expressionless as an image of someone dissecting my brain flashed before my eyes.

Admiral Barnett took up the conversation once more. "The other half, however, has seen the advantage of having someone of your skill set aboard the _Enterprise_. With the far-ranging, dangerous missions we have in mind for that particular ship and crew, you would prove invaluable in protecting your Captain and fellow crewmates. We have also considered the reports provided to us by your crewmates, and have taken their recommendations to heart."

After giving a swift look around at his fellow admirals, Admiral Barnett focused on me once more. "Scans of your brain have caused the doctors to believe that you have not been brainwashed to turn against your own people –as far as anyone can tell. You are superior to humans in many ways, but not to the extent of Khan and his people. So, if worst comes to worst on a mission and you turn against them, we've given your people permission to take you down in any way possible."

I blinked at him. "I'm sorry?"

Barnett gave me a weak smile. "We've decided to allow you to return to the _Enterprise_. You will return to your old position, and continue working with Dr. McCoy, under the leadership of Captain James Kirk."

Swallowing hard, I struggled to ask a very important question. "And…my baby?"

"Ah, now there's a touchy topic," Barnett admitted. "It is human, but with Khan's genetic material, there is very little we know about it. However, it would be morally and ethically wrong to separate a mother and child, no matter what the age of the youngster. You may keep your child and raise him aboard the _Enterprise_ –with one condition."

I swallowed again. Here it comes…

"We require that Dr. McCoy keep a constant eye on the child, and that he maintain a medical file on it. He will need to take blood and brain scans on each significant achievement the boy makes, and send his results to our medical staff, for them to analyze and study. The results might prove beneficial, or they could prove pointless, but we would rather be safe than sorry."

I almost collapsed in relief. "Thank you, Sirs. I very much appreciate all of this."

Admiral Barnett nodded. "Captain Kirk and his second-in-command will arrive within the hour to retrieve you. Please fetch anything you wish to take with you, then proceed to the shuttle bay. You're dismissed, Ensign."

Taking a deep breath, I saluted, turned and left, relief flooding through me as I hurried down the hall. I was finally going home!

* * *

Sitting in his quarters, James Kirk stared out his window and wondered about his present situation –namely Ria and her baby. She had been given permission to return to duty, much to the thrill of her friends, and the surprise and dismay of the rest of Jim's crew. Of course, there was a particular reason she had been allowed back aboard.

"With the constant traveling the _Enterprise_ will do, it will be far more difficult for Khan to find her, if that's his intention," Admiral Barnett had told him privately. "A moving target is harder to hit, after all, and we truly do believe that with what enhancements that have been made to her, Ensign Drake will be an asset to you and your people, and be able to hold her own in a fight."

While Jim had no problem with having Ria back aboard, it was her infant that was troubling him. His own close group of friends and officers were uneasy about Ria having Khan's son, but if Ria herself didn't want to give up the child, they wouldn't try and persuade her otherwise. They would try and help her in any way they could, like good friends did.

The rest of the crew was another matter. They remembered what had happened the last time they had encountered Khan, and to have Ria aboard, pregnant with that madman's baby, was a topic of hot discussions.

Mostly, Ria herself was regarded as a victim of Khan's madness, and the crew were willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. No, the talk was about how the child would turn out when it grew up. Many hoped that the boy would be like his mother, but with half of Khan's genetic makeup, Jim had a feeling that any temper tantrums the kid had were going to be interesting, to say the least.

Then there was the matter of Khan himself. If he was any kind of father, he would no doubt want his child back, and if he found out where it was, Jim was going to have a fight on his hands.

'_Not that I'm one to run from a battle_,' he admitted. He was fond of Ria, and was more than willing to take Khan on again to keep her safe. '_And if it comes to keeping her son safe, I'll put up the best damn fight possible_.'

What a mess. Still, it was too late to change his mind –orders had been given, and he had to carry them out. Besides, they could use a constant bit of excitement aboard, to keep them on their toes.

* * *

AN: Longer chapter this time. More to follow next week!


End file.
